


the name of the game

by JustHereForTheFanfic



Series: Collins!Reader [1]
Category: Dark Shadows (2012)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/F, Fake Dating, collins!reader, mentions of abuse, wrote this bc angie deserved better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:47:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 63,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24226105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustHereForTheFanfic/pseuds/JustHereForTheFanfic
Summary: “Are you going to tell people that we’re not dating?”You paused, “It would make my life a lot easier considering even Liz thinks we’re dating.” But you’ve obviously got some type of angle with this and I’m trying to figure out what it is. “The real question is why do you want people to think we are?”She skipped the denial and without missing a beat said, “Good publicity. It looks very good to be dating a member of my competitor’s family. You’re the only viable option, as you said you don’t really have an opinion of me."ORYou make a deal with Angie in exchange for not cursing your family. Two months couldn’t be that long right?
Relationships: Angelique Bouchard Collins/Reader
Series: Collins!Reader [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965751
Comments: 88
Kudos: 194





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We have the 70’s aesthetic, without any of the homophobia!! I made the mistake of watching both Mamma Mia movies and then Dark Shadows and my brain made this. Not gonna lie it kinda sucks, but like I’m incapable of being ashamed of something that was pretty fun to write. Also I'm aware a few others have done fake dating with Angie, but I just really love that trope.

You woke up on the couch, eyes bleary, head pounding. Slowly you pushed yourself up, eyes coming into focus. You were at Collinswood. It was morning? Noon? Sunlight slightly shown behind the dark curtains. And you were hungover as fuck.

There was a reason you didn’t regularly drink, not like the rest of your siblings.

Foggy distorted memories swam through your head, you had gone to Esther’s retirement party last night. Must’ve been some retirement party because you couldn’t recall anything after sitting at the bar.

Carolyn walked by, stopping, “What the hell happened to you?”

You shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine…”

“You may want to look in the mirror,” she said, then headed upstairs.

Slowly you stood, your stomach reminding you that it was in charge here. You made it to the bathroom thankfully uneventfully, regretting whatever you drank every step of the way.

With a flick of the lightswitch you were met with a reflection of your sleep deprived and disheveled self. The thing that caught your attention the most was the lipstick smudges around your mouth, not your shade.

“What. The. Fuck.” You whispered to yourself.

You checked yourself over, and noticed the phone number written on the inside of your wrist in sharpie. You racked your brain for who had that number, but it came up with nothing.

—————

It was a slow process for you to finally drink water and wipe the remnants of last night’s makeup off you. It was even a slower process for you to change, having to lay on your bed every so often to keep yourself from getting too nauseous. Thankfully you managed to be semi-presentable by lunch, before Liz could give you that disapproving glare that your sister had perfected. 

You walked into the empty kitchen, immediately keeping your back to the open windows. The landline was attached to the wall, you fumbled with the ugly burnt orange handset. 

Thankfully lunch was being served so there was no one to question who you were calling. With everyone in the dining room.

You leaned against the counter in front of the landline and checked the numbers, then dialed. It rang, rang again. “Ms. Bouchard’s office, this is her secretary speaking. How may I help you?”

You had never hung up the phone as quickly or with as much force as that moment. Your stomach which had slowly stopped threatening to spill last night’s dinner resurged with a vengeance.

Instead you focused on putting your wrist under the running facet and scrubbing at the sharpied numbers. 

There were two people that were the absolute worst people for that phone number to have belonged to. First, your newest ex-girlfriend, Eileen and second, Angie Bouchard.

Eileen was solely ranked as the worst because she had been toxic. That had ended a month ago, when you found her cheating on you. Somehow you had managed to not run into her since then, but it was only a matter of time. 

On the bright side that meant you hadn’t gone back to Eileen.

Downside, Angie presented completely different problems. The last thing you needed was the resident golden girl, and town witch who had it specifically had it out for your family to set her sights on you. 

Slowly the very comforting realization occurred. Perhaps it wasn’t Angie, maybe it had been the secretary, or maybe it was someone who had messed up a number. Maybe someone wrote it on you as a joke. Hell maybe you had written it on yourself to confuse the fuck out of your sober self.

The facet turned off and you toweled off your wrist the numbers now a big dark smudge. 

You slept off the rest of the hangover and returned to a semblance of normal. None of your family mentioned you being passed out on the couch, you doubted they had noticed at all. You made a note to thank Carolyn for not snitching.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like technically this is set in 1973? But I mostly forgot the entire timeline for the movie so this is just basically a different plot with occasional stuff I remember from the movie thrown in if that makes sense. I feel like this chapter is mostly exposition and I feel like I'm still forgetting stuff oof

It was early Sunday evening when you took Carolyn out to the record shop down on Common Street. Half bribery and half because it was Liz’s turn to host her book club and both you and Carolyn needed a reprieve from that.

Weather warm enough that you had opted for a tank top and some shorts. Uncharacteristically sunny and warm for Collinsport, and Maine in general, it was already ramping up to be a hot summer. You crossed the street with Carolyn, the evening sun throwing everything into a golden haze. The window shops reflected the sun, casting random squares of light onto the uneven sidewalk. 

“Can we grab something to eat after this?” Carolyn asked, forcing your focus away from the sunset.

“Where were you thinking?”

“King Kreme. They’ve got good burgers.”

“Nothing to do with the fact that you think that one waitress is cute?”

Her cheeks flushed, she rolled her eyes. “Yeah right.”

“My bad.” You laughed. There was a rumble of a car. Followed by the beginning of many, “Hi Angie!” Almost instantly your mood soured, you weren’t going to look over. You definitely weren’t going to look over at the candy red barracuda. It was a damn good car, but you refused to look because only one person in town owned that car. The events of Saturday morning resurfaced, and you didn’t glance as the car passed. Not even with the choruses of “Hey Angie!” that rang through as she drove past. Despite living in this town for most of your life, you weren’t entirely sure if greeting people like that was a normal small town thing, or just an odd idiosyncrasy of Collinsport. You looked forward, unwilling to gawk, continuing to walk with Carolyn.

You walked into the record shop, instantly you were met with the smell of weed and laminated cardboard. Mostly weed. You nodded towards the owner of the shop, a nice self-proclaimed hippie. Today he was wearing some  psychedelic button up shirt, brown suede fringe jacket, complete with rose colored heart glasses.

“Love the glasses,” you complimented, then made your way towards the first row of records.

The bell above the door rang, you continued your search. 

“Looking for anything specific Angie?” The owner  asked.

You glanced up, in what you were sure was not a subtle stare, but thankfully neither of them were looking in your direction.

Angie stood there, beautiful and elegant as always. You didn’t mean to stare, she was simply the kind of beautiful that eyes tended to gravitate to and settle on. You could hear her voice and just  _ know _ . It was Angie.

“Just browsing, thank you.” She answered, moving to look through the records.

You attempted to flip through records faster, you didn’t avoid her. You simply made sure that if she was around you didn’t stay very long.

You returned to your task, albeit a slightly sped up version, you really didn’t want to test if your theory from Saturday was true.

However you slowly focused on the almost mechanical movements of thumbing through the music, and every so often setting another record to the pile was comfortable. Falling back into your rhythm earlier.

Not noticing when a hand picked up one of the records you had set aside. “Otis Redding.”

You then noticed the hand, and who it was attached to. Angie stood next to you, smirking, your mouth went dry, you hummed out an acknowledgment.

She set it back onto the pile carefully, then focused back on you. 

You held her gaze, apprehensively watching and waiting for her focus to be directed elsewhere. Her smirk widened and she moved just a touch closer, her perfume mingled with the record shop’s smell, it made you lightheaded. Of course that could just be the weed itself. 

“You know, I never got that thank you call Saturday morning.” Her voice low, almost hypnotic.

She held out her hand expectantly and you placed your upwards palm in it, she looked down at it, frowning slightly. “Looks like you washed it off.”

“It was smudged when I woke up, I wasn’t sure what it was, so I washed it off.” The lie slipped easily off your tongue. Followed by the truth. “To be honest I don’t really remember anything from that night.”

She looked up again, thumb rubbing at the inside of your wrist, a pleasant sensation. “Nothing? That’s a shame, I enjoyed it.” She smirked and  _ oh fuck did you sleep with her? _

No, you hadn’t. You had had enough drunk hookups in college to know when you had slept with someone. Plus Angie definitely seemed the type to leave you sore the next morning. With that in mind your mouth opened and out came something you instantly regretted. “If you enjoyed that, imagine me when I’m sober.”

She looked pleased, glancing down at you, in a definite flirting move that edged brazen. “I have.” You couldn't help the scoff, or the smile. Her hand tightened around yours and you felt a pleasant tug in the pit of your stomach.

A switch went off on your head, the words WITCH flashing in big bold letters, and your smile wavered.

Removing your hand from hers, you said quickly “Thank you for whatever I forgot to thank you for on Saturday. Maybe you could help me fill in some of the blanks another time.”

She gave a slight huff of laughter, more of an exhale really. “I gave you a ride home, and made sure your bill was paid.” 

That threw you for a loop. “You did?”

She nodded, “I certainly wasn’t going to let you pass out on the sidewalk.”

You nodded, “Then I’m sorry, I really do appreciate it.”  _ Then who the fuck did I make out with!? _

“It was nothing.” She picked her record back up, “You should stop by for lunch one day, and I can help fill in those blanks.” She offered, mockingly. You suspected the offer was sincere, but that Angie had the unfortunate ability to make everything sound like she was mocking you. Either that or she was just a bitch.

You chose to give her the benefit of the doubt, “That’d be helpful.”

She walked to the register, and you found Carolyn a few rows over patiently watching. “What the fuck was that?”

“Language.” 

She rolled her eyes, “Like you weren’t thinking it.”

You tilted your head in acquiescence. Instead you ignored the subject in favor of looking at the records she was holding.

“Two?”

“Two.”

You paid for Carolyn’s and your records, walking out of the record shop and back to the car. “So are you going to explain why she was talking to you?”

Your hands shoved into your pockets, “Apparently she gave me a ride home when I was drunk, and she just wanted a thank you.”

She snorted, “So that’s why she was so obviously flirting with you?”

“ _ That _ , does not leave the record shop, and it wasn’t really flirting, she’s just like that to most people from what I’ve seen.”

The plan for dinner was skipped and instead you both headed straight home, Carolyn let the topic drop. 

You rolled down the windows, it was too hot for Mid-May. Carolyn took charge of the radio as soon as you pulled onto the road, she switched stations until she found something loud and catchy. Which she promptly turned up. She sang along, and you did too mostly under your breath, keeping your mind off of Angie to the best of your abilities. But she was attractive and you were gay. By the time you were pulling off the main road and through the broken gate, you had already put the interaction out of your mind in favor of wondering why people drove like assholes.

The book club was already over by the time you two returned. Casserole and brownie leftovers still on the kitchen counter. 

You helped yourself to a plate of the casserole, Carolyn already disappearing with her vinyls. 

Liz walked into the kitchen, “I need to talk with you.”

“Okay.” Though it came out as more of a question.

Liz walked off and you followed, till you were in her office. Which is when you realized you had somehow screwed up sometime between leaving and eating the casserole. The fact that she had taken pains to actually get you somewhere private rather than just say what she needed to was never a good sign.

“Y/N, I know it’s been a month since everything that happened with Eileen.”

You took a hesitant bite of the casserole and nodded. 

“I realize that you’re a grown adult who can make her own decisions, but I’ve heard you’re already on the rebound. With Angelique of all people.”

The casserole stuck in your throat, you coughed. Liz held up her hands defensively, continuing. “Apparently the latest gossip is that you and Angelique were seen leaving the bar, hand in hand.”

“She gave me a ride home.” You said in between coughs, eyes watering.

Her eyebrows rose, in her way of calling out bullshit without saying it. 

The coughing fit died down and you stared back at your sister. 

Finally she caved, “Fine.”

You closed the door behind you, taking your plate to your room. 

The rest of the house was usually dark with the curtains drawn so that Barnabas wouldn’t turn to stone, or whatever might happen to a vampire in sunlight. However your room was an exception, your curtains open so that the sunlight shone on the peeling wallpaper, reminiscent of a richer time. You flopped onto the king-sized canopy bed, sprawled out. 

A part of you wondered if the reason Angelique was in the record shop was to talk to you about the rumor. You hoped that interaction wasn’t going to somehow get back to Liz either. You sat up and moved towards the record player. 

It wasn’t until you picked up the two records that you realized Angie had taken the Otis Redding vinyl in the record shop, you scoffed and picked up the other one. She had left you a Rolling Stones one that Carolyn would approve of, and an Aretha Franklin one, you chose The Rolling Stones one, let it skip across as the first few notes played out.

——————

The rest of Sunday evening passed without fanfare. Monday morning was shaping up to be almost as uneventful. 

You were elbows deep into washing the ambulance when there was a voice behind you.

“Hey so uh, I heard that you and Angie are dating.” 

Blindly you threw the sopping sponge towards the voice. There was a solid, thwap! And then an audible sigh.

You turned to see the sponge fall off of Warren’s face. He broke into a laugh, picking it up and tossing it back at you. You dodged it. “Where did you hear that?”

He shrugged and picked up another sponge, dunking it in the water before helping. “The entire town is talking about it. It’s true isn’t it?”

You didn’t answer and he seemed to take that as a yes. “Anyways I was wondering if you wanted to go on a double date with me and Maggie?”

“...I'll have to talk with Angie about it.”

Once washing the ambulance was done you told Warren you were going out for lunch. It was a slow day and you had already been at the station for the past four hours so he just waved you off with an ‘alright have fun _. _ ’

And that was that.

_ This was stupid, almost as stupid as the rumors. _ But here you were standing in the elevator to see your supposed ‘girlfriend,’ had Angie ever dated? Didn’t seem like it considering how quickly everyone assumed you were public with this relationship.

The ding of the elevator snapped you from the spiral of thoughts. Doors opening to a nice office, Angie’s secretary sitting at her desk.

She was a grandmotherly looking woman, you could practically picture her baking some cookies for her grandchildren. Her name plate said Gladys.

She smiled, “Hi how can I help you?”

You politely returned the smile, “Hi, I was hoping to speak with Ms. Bouchard.”

“She’s very busy, I can write you in for next week.”

You winced, “Nevermind, can you just say that Y/N stopped by?”

She smiled, “Oh you’re Y/N! She said if you dropped by to let you go in.” She waved towards the door in a  _ go ahead  _ motion. You suspected she also heard about the rumor. Good god this thing had spread like wildfire.

Still you knocked on the door and then waited for a murmur of “Come in.” Then walked in. Angie unsurprisingly looked like she normally did, flawless and drop dead beautiful. It was unfair to normal people who actually had bad hair days. 

Her lips curled upwards, “Y/N, what an unexpected surprise.”

You took the seat across from her desk, “If what your secretary said is true, this is far from unexpected.”

The smirk widened slightly, “I didn’t want you scared off so easily.”

“I don’t scare very easily.” You answered inconsequentially, “And I don’t want to waste your time. I assume you’ve heard the rumors already.”

“Is that why you’re here?” She tapped her pen on the desk, “And here I thought you simply wanted to see me.”

“Why does half the town think we’re dating?”

She shrugged, “Maybe because we made out at Esther’s retirement party.”

You opened your mouth, then shut it. “Oh.” You stared at a square of carpet, and then looked up at her. “You’re the person I made out with.”

She chuckled, “You really don’t remember that night do you?”

You shook your head, “No.” Mind caught up, “Wait, why didn’t you mention that at the record store then?”

“Because I only wanted a thank you for driving you home.” She answered, “Besides there’s not exactly a good segue into  _ hey I know you were shitfaced but we made out _ .”

You cracked a smile, despite yourself, “fair enough.” You crossed your legs, leaned back in the chair, “But I’m here now, so fill me in on what happened.”

She paused, smirked at you and scooted back in her chair, “We can discuss it over lunch.” She stood, picking up her purse. 

“You’re determined to keep me in suspense, aren't you?”

She gave an exasperated smile. Walking around the desk, offering her hand. “Well now that I’ve finally got your undivided attention I plan to enjoy it.”

You stood up, not taking her hand, but moving towards her office door nonetheless. “All you had to do was ask.”

“Please, you avoid me whenever you can.”

“I don't avoid you.” You lied.

She quirked her eyebrows, definitely holding back a remark, but instead she opened the door.

You followed her through, “I’m going out to lunch with Y/N.” Angie said to her secretary, “Need anything while I’m out?”

“Nothing Ms. Bouchard, thank you.”

Angie gave a polite nod, then you stepped into the elevator with her. The doors closed, “If you don’t avoid me then why haven’t we had a full conversation despite both sitting on the town council for a year?” She asked nonplussed, pressing the first floor button.

You sighed, leaning against the wall of the elevator. “Because I'm well aware of the mutual dislike that you and my family share, and I try to keep out of it.”

She chuckled, her eyes narrowed not unkindly, “Do you hate me?”

It gave you pause momentarily before you gave a noncommittal noise and shrug. “Like you said, we’ve never had a full conversation so I don’t really have an opinion.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened and you walked out quickly. Not wanting to deal with her reaction.

Angie drove because she seemed to already have a place in mind. It seemed you had become her hostage for lunch. You prayed to the universe that they please, please forgive you, because you had obviously done something that made them hate you.

She pulled into King Kreme’s parking lot. Not exactly where you had expected her to take you, nothing against the diner, but the wood paneling, and fast food didn’t exactly scream five star restaurant. Angelique on the other hand definitely seemed the type to sneer at anything less than gourmet. 

Still she didn’t seem fazed, and you reasoned that you might have misjudged that part of Angie.

Inside there were a few people, but it was obvious the lunch rush had already hit. You slid into one of the vinyl booths farther in the back. 

You took a seat across from Angie, “What happened at the bar?”

“We haven’t even ordered yet, sweetheart.” She gave you a teasing smile.

You didn’t return it. “And if you don’t get to the point, I won’t.” 

The smirk dropped, she stared you down, you stared back blankly. Finally she relented, “You were already there when I arrived. Some time passed and I went to grab a drink at the bar, when Eileen arrived.”

“Eileen? Shit.”

“That was your exact reaction.” She smiled, “I’m not a big fan of the woman, and so I sat next to you because it was obvious something was going to happen. I struck up a conversation with you while you ordered and finished your first drink. And then the second drink. I believe your fourth drink is when we talked about Eileen, and your breakup.”

You internally winced at the thought of Angie knowing all of this.

“Then Eileen started to flirt with whoever was closest, while throwing you what you had dubbed. The ‘pity glare.’”

Your personal name for that half-pity, half-anger, look that she always gave you. “Yeah, I know the look.” You also hadn’t told anyone that’s what you called it, which meant Angie was telling the truth.

“A drink or two later, and you asked if I would make her jealous.”

“So we made out.”

She tilted her head in agreement, “Don’t worry, it was tame. Mostly.” She assured, mockingly. Then resumed the story, “Afterwards we walked out of the bar, hand in hand, just to drive the point home.” 

“Then you drove me home.” You finished.

She smiled. “While you sang along with the radio.”

You physically winced that time, knowing Angie was the last person to let something go. Her grudge against your family was still strong after a hundred and ninety-three years so this would last the rest of your lifetime. And maybe the next two generations.

You moved your hand so that your palm supported your chin, staring at Angie. She was watching you patiently bemused, finally you spoke. “So you know about the rumors.”

“There’s always bound to be a few circulating.”

“You haven’t corrected anyone about it though.” 

She glanced out the window, “No, I don’t see the point in concerning myself with it.” It would’ve been convincing if she hadn’t followed it with. “Have you?” Turning back to watch you cautiously.

“No, Liz was the one to confront me about it and I was too surprised to ever correct her.” 

She smiled, “She knows?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes, “God you should’ve seen her, I was sure steam would come out of her ears at any minute.” Suddenly the realization hit you, and you dropped your hand to the table, then drummed against it.

“Are you going to tell people that we’re not dating?” She asked.

You paused, “It would make my life a lot easier considering even Liz thinks we’re dating.”  _ But you’ve obviously got some type of angle with this and I’m trying to figure out what it is. _ “The real question is why do you want people to think we are?”

She skipped the denial and without missing a beat said, “Good publicity.”

“It looks very good to be dating a member of my competitor’s family. You’re the only viable option, as you said you don’t really have an opinion of me.” She gave a curt smile, “It helps that you have a good reputation, putting out fires and saving cats from trees and all that.”

“So you planned out all of that?” You shifted in your seat, you needed to leave, grab a ride home-

She must have seen the shift, because she quickly rested her hand on top of yours, “No, and I didn’t start the rumor. It simply worked in my favor.”

You stayed still, staring her down. 

The waitress walked up at that moment, “What can I get you two lovebirds?”

Angie’s hand squeezed yours barely, “Just a number one for me.” She looked at you, “And you sweetheart?”

You shot Angie a glare before turning to the waitress, “The same for me, please.”

The waitress left.

You pulled your hand away instantly, “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?”

She shrugged and smiled, “Might as well.”

“So I go along with this fake dating, you get good publicity and what do I get?”

“You get to piss off Eileen.”

“And face my family’s wrath? Very funny.”

“What do you want?”

“Undo what you did to Carolyn.” You said.

She paused. “I don’t know what you’re talking-“

“Cut the crap. I know it was you.” You leaned back against the booth, crossed your arms. “If I do this you get good publicity, you get to piss off Eileen who you already admitted you dislike and get to piss off my family including Barnabas.”

A tick in her jaw appeared at the mention of Barnabas.

“I have to deal with them. In return I want you to undo Carolyn’s curse, and promise not to interfere with my siblings and their children.”

She paused, you could tell she was weighing her options. You were fully ready for her to say no. “And what of Barnabas?” She asked.

“That’s between you two, not my problem.” 

She stayed silent for a moment, “Deal.”

You smiled, it felt more like a grimace. “So where do we start?”

It was discussed over lunch two months of dating, and that was it. Five dates, and then the final act would be at Angie’s house for the fourth of July. You knew you could do it, especially with the reward of your family being safe for once.

Except Barnabas, but he had dug himself into this hole. You weren’t necessarily safe either, but you were collateral in this game. 

She explained that she’d treat you exactly as she would if you two were actually dating, she’d kiss you hello and goodbye. Along with anything else that may come with a relationship with her. 

That meant every outing that you two would see each other at, like the town council meetings for example, meant you would have to play along.

You explained your ground rules. The first and foremost rule: you were not going to sleep with her. She could kiss you hello and goodbye, but you drew the line at her expecting you to put out. 

She had laughed and asked why you expected her to want to sleep with you.

Instead of being embarrassed, you simply stated. “I’m just laying down my ground rules.” The second rule: she couldn’t inadvertently harm your family. Finally the third rule: she wasn’t allowed to push the deadline farther back, or change any of the integral parts of the deal.

She agreed. Paid for the bill, and drove you back to Angel Bay, parking her car right next to yours, you both got out. You unlocked your car, Angie standing next to you, waiting for something.

When it was obvious you weren’t going to do whatever she wanted, she rolled her eyes. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.” She kissed your cheek before disappearing back into the warehouse.

The stares of a few workers weren’t lost on you, you waved awkwardly and they quickly looked away as if they hadn’t been openly staring. You slid into your car and wondered what you had truly gotten yourself into.

**\-----------------**

The next day you almost managed to put the deal out of your mind, working on  changing the batteries for some of the walkie-talkies.  Alone in the garage, the garage doors rolled up so you could enjoy the breeze. Radio playing mixed with the sound of nature made you relaxed into your work.

Until Angie walked in. She was wearing an emerald green pantsuit looking ready for a business meeting, a stark contrast to everything around her currently.

“Angie.” You swallowed, “What’re you doing here?”

“I thought you might want lunch,” she held a brown paper bag, you hadn’t noticed it until that moment.

“Thanks.” You took the bag, she smiled.

She glanced away to look around, “So this is the Collinsport firehouse.” As she walked further through you followed behind, “Good to see our tax dollars hard at work.” She turned back to smile at you, “Are you not going to show me around?”

At this point your mind caught up, “Yeah, sure.” You showed her the fire engine, listing off facts that you remembered. The places for the uniforms, the ambulance.

She looked around passively interested. “So how many cats have you saved from trees today?” She teased.

You shook your head, “It was one time.” One freakin’ time that you just so happened to save a cat from a tree, and the cat belonged to the head reporter for the Collinsport paper. 

“It was the front page sweetheart.”

“Probably because they had nothing better to talk about.” You remarked. The good publicity had managed to launch you into the public eye of the town, one thing led to another and despite not campaigning you secured a seat on the city council. 

Which led to you meeting Angie, which led to all of this...all because of a cat.

She broke into a smile, it wasn’t fair to be that pretty. 

Footsteps echoed as Johnson and Warren walked in from the main building. Angie and you both glanced over at them. Johnson was the first to speak up, “Y/N you didn’t tell me we had a guest.”

Warren held out his hand first, “It’s so nice to finally meet the woman Y/N keeps talking about.” 

A lie both you and Angie knew, because this hadn’t been a thing till yesterday. But a well-meaning lie.

Still Angie never missed a beat, smiling as she shook his hand. “She talks about me?” She glanced over at you, both did and you felt put on the spot.

“Yeah, Warren and I were talking about maybe doing a double date if you were up for it.” You managed out.

“I’d love to.” She answered back. 

Next was Johnson, he nodded towards Angie without the handshake. “Ms. Bouchard.”

“Mr. Morgan, how are the wife and kids?” 

“Fine as always. And you?”

“Better than ever.” She leaned a little closer to you.

“So what brings you to the firestation besides Y/N?” Warren asked.

Angie wrapped her arm loosely around yours, your body flushed pleasantly under the attention. Her perfume was something floral, it didn’t make you lightheaded this time. So it definitely had been the weed in the record shop. “Well  _ someone _ ,” her eyes flicked playfully to you, “forgot their lunch. I was just delivering it.” 

A smile rolled onto your face, “Thank you for that.”

“I should get going, will you walk me out?” She asked sweetly.

You nodded, and Johnson and Warren walked off farther towards the back of the garage to let you two walk in peace. 

When you were far enough from the garage you spoke, “So why did you come here? Besides to wrap my coworkers around your finger, and remind me of my terrible life decisions.”

She stopped walking, “I want to know when I can pick you up.”

“Up for what?” 

“Our date, darling.” She says, teasing smirk replacing the smile.

“I can’t today, but how does tomorrow night at eight sound?”

“Fine.”

A loud bell started and you quickly turned back to the station, you were already running back before either of you could mutter a  _ bye _ . You ran through the regular drill, listening to the commotion from your coworkers.

You grabbed onto the back of the firetruck, it lurched forward as soon as your foot left the cement and suddenly you were pulling through the garage. The ambulance siren was blaring and so was the truck, you held tight to the rail and watched as buildings and streets passed. Not entirely sure where you were going, just that there wasn’t a fire, but there were people injured. 

Never had you considered yourself religious, but everytime you were on your way you said a silent prayer that they would be alright. Whoever they were, last time it had been an older couple whose toaster caught fire, they were fine. They just ended up remodeling a bit of their kitchen. 

The truck hit a particularly big pothole and your foot nearly slipped, you gripped the rail tighter. You slapped the side of the truck and Johnson made eye contact with you in the side view mirror. “Are you driving with a blindfold up there?” You yelled, over the wind, the siren was turned off now that it was out of town, there was less traffic. There was no actual anger, but you kept your best glare aimed at him.

He called your bluff, laughed and stuck his arm out of the window flipping you off, you laughed and flipped him off too. You glanced to the side and noticed the beach, and then the cop cars. The smile dropped instantly.

Your foot hit sand as soon as the fire truck pulled to a stop. The smell was the first thing you noticed, like roadkill that had baked in the sun. Your stomach turned but you still continued towards it. 

Bodies were littered around a now dead campfire. Gruesome and bloody, you glanced over them trying not to take in any particular details. 

You already knew who did it anyways, Barnabas. Your gaze landed on the face of one of the kids—corpses, you corrected yourself. They were the hippie kids you had seen around town a couple times, not much older than Carolyn. Finally you tore your gaze away and cleared your throat. “Who found them?”

“A family, apparently they came for a day at the beach, and...got this.” Sheriff Hope answered.

You nodded absentmindedly, “Any survivors?” 

“No.”

“It kinda looks like it’s from Jaws, you know?” Said one of the officers.

“Haven’t seen it yet.” You replied back.

“You should, it’s the best movie I’ve seen this year.”

You finally looked up at him,  a lanky kid with a baby face , he looked fresh out of high school. He looked between you and the sheriff, paled when he realized both of you were looking at him. Finally he opened his mouth then closed it. “...Not the time...yeah.”

He looked like a kicked puppy, so you finally spoke up. “Nah, you’re alright. We all gotta stay sane somehow.” 

The coroner covered the first body with a sheet, you looked away, back towards Thomas. “It’s the one with the killer shark, right? I’ll have to check it out.”

—————

By the time the last body part had been collected off the beach it was nearing the end of your shift. The sun was setting on the water, turning everything golden. It would’ve been beautiful if you hadn’t just been staring at corpses for the past few hours.

You arrived home without fanfare, slipping into a shower and into more comfortable clothes before waking Barnabas. 

He opened the door with a glare aimed at you. You didn’t have enough fucks to give with what you had just cleaned up on the beach. “I need to talk with you.” Then brushed past him into his room.

“Can this wait? I was trying to rest.”

“It’s about your feeding habits.” 

His eyebrows raised then quickly dropped and he looked passive, “I am doing my best to curb my bloodlust.”

“Not as well as I would hope, I had to clean up the remnants of those hippie kids on the beach.” You sat on the bed, noticed the coffin on the floor but said nothing.

Then you noticed the mirror had a crudely drawn Barnabas taped to it. David must’ve colored it, including the little fangs. You pointed to it, with a _ what the hell is that?  _ On the tip of your tongue.

Barnabas waved it off, “Dr. Hoffman explained to me the benefits of ‘pep talks’ to myself.” 

Before you could process that statement, much less comment on it.

He crossed his arms, “As you are aware it is my baser instinct as a monster to feed on the living-“

“I understand, but it’s who you’re feeding on that I have a problem with.” You leaned back slightly, “From now on you’re only allowed to feed on criminals. Rapists, pedophiles, and abusers.”

“The scum.” He added helpfully.

“Yes. Do we have a deal?”

He nodded, “Of course.”

You offered a small smile, “Good, Willie should know most of the people I’m talking about, or where to find them at least.”

“Is he…?”

“He’s not a criminal, it’s just a small town and people tend to know who to stay away from.”

“Or in my case who to feed off of.”

“Exactly.”

\-------------

The next night couldn’t come fast enough, nor could you slow it down. You prepared for it best you could despite not knowing what she planned. You expected a movie and maybe dinner. Dressing noticeably nicer than usual. You were ready ten minutes before Angie was supposed to arrive, you made it towards the staircase planning to wait near the door so you could slip out as soon as she arrived without any drama. 

As soon as you neared the staircase you heard voices, specifically Angie’s voice and Liz’s. You glanced towards both of them, Liz looked pissed, and Angie delighted. Quickly and stupidly you spoke, hoping to get their attention away from each other. “You’re early.” 

Angie looked up to you and smiled innocently, before offering Liz a quick smug smirk. “I couldn’t wait to see you sweetheart.” She said overly honeyed, moving towards the bottom of the staircase. She watched you in a way that made you wonder if this was truly the smartest or dumbest thing you had done. 

Liz made a gagging motion behind Angie, you descended the stairs quickly, taking Angie’s forearm and directing her towards the door. “How sweet.” You said flatly. Then shut the front door behind you. 

Angelique gave a mock pout, “That wasn’t very polite.”

You let go of her arm, walking towards her car. “I thought we agreed at eight.”

She finally relented, “I figured you hadn’t told them, and really I wasn’t going to miss the chance to see Elizabeth’s face when I told her.” 

“At least you’re honest,” you sighed climbing into her car. 

She drove and you stared out your window watching as you passed by trees, you fidgeted with the ring on your middle finger. Not bothering to find something to discuss with Angie, and she didn’t try either. 

She drove past the movie theater and pulled into one of the few expensive restaurants of Collinsport. She parked, “We have a reservation.” 

You opened your door, and thanked god that you had actually worn an outfit nice enough for this place.

Once you were seated and had already placed orders you started, “I kind of expected the movies.”

“That’s so impersonal.” 

You wanted to say, that was the point. But held your tongue. 

“Besides if I’m going to pass as your girlfriend, I need to know things about you.”

Sure, totally didn’t sound like she was using this to plan your demise. “How much do you already know about me?”

“Not as much as I know about your siblings.”

You watched her carefully, debating on what to give away that you felt wasn’t noteworthy. “Half-siblings.”

That caught her attention, “But you don’t call them that.” 

You shrugged, “Only when I’m pissed at them, Liz has never thrown it in my face, but Roger will remind me sometimes when he’s pissed at me.”

There was a pause before she spoke again, “When did they find out about you?”

You considered for a moment if anything was actually damaging, but you had made peace with your childhood years ago. “When it became obvious that my father had fucked off to god knows where and he wasn’t as well off as he said he was, my mother left me at Collinswood.” You picked up your drink, “I was four.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, you glanced up. She looked sympathetic, surprised. “Don’t tell me that was such a surprise to you, the way you follow along with my family I’m surprised you haven’t taken credit for it.”

“I knew you were half-siblings, Rosemary certainly wasn’t having more children from beyond the grave.” She stated, “But I’m not responsible for that.”

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink. Setting it back down you spoke, “So why don’t you know as much about me? Am I your least favorite Collins?” You asked with a mocking pout.

She rolled her eyes, “I’d argue you’re the most tolerable.” 

“That’s not a no.” You commented.

She gave an exasperated smile, “Regardless, when I came back from my  _ break _ , you were already off at college.”

Made enough sense, you didn’t bother asking further. Dinner came, and you ate. 

She paid, offered her arm when you were leaving and you humored her, looping yours through. As you walked closer to the car, you removed yourself from her, walking to your side as you waited for her to unlock it.

“What am I supposed to know about you?” You asked, resting your arms on the roof of her car.

She considered for a moment, not bothering to look up at you, she replied. “I like my coffee black, no cream, no sugar.”

“I gave you something big, you have to return the favor.” You drummed your fingers against the roof of her car. “It can’t be just any random fact.” It needed to be something actually noteworthy.

She paused, “What do you want to know?”

You considered for a moment, hoping to think of something that might be helpful eventually. But also something that you thought she might answer, “Where were you born?”

“Paris.”

You looked up and smiled, it caught you off guard when she said it. Caught you off guard that she had given you an answer at all.

“We left when I was young, my mother and I boarded a ship for a settlement in Maine when I was nine. Before it was called Collinsport.”

“Do you miss it?” 

“Sometimes.” Her voice was softer, in tone and volume. She opened her door, and then reached over and opened yours.

The discussion left anything that could be emotionally charged, instead you discussed trivial matters, steering clear of your family. Instead it was about how useless certain members of the town council were, about her car. Apparently Angie was slightly interested in cars, but not quite as interested in what was under the hood like you were, she was more interested in how nice they looked, as well as their status symbol.

It was disconcerting that you liked talking with her then, you found yourself smiling at her jokes, she would smile when you teased her, shooting back some remark. When she pulled into the driveway of Collinswood you found you were slightly disappointed.

She put the car into park, your hand found the door handle. “Thanks for dinner.” She was facing you then, and the weight of her gaze almost palpable. It didn’t bother you until that moment, but you were sure it was because for a small snapshot of time between dinner and here you had actually liked her. 

“Forgetting something?” She looked smug, eyebrow quirked, her lip curling upwards.

Your purse was in your lap, you couldn’t think of anything you had forgotten. Then with clarity.  _ The goodbye kiss. _ “You’re really dedicated to this?” Despite the question you presented your cheek and she kissed it.

There was lipstick mark on your cheek, you didn’t have to look to know. The slightly tacky feel when she pulled away had given it away.

You turned your head to kiss her cheek, leaving a visible lipstick stain on her cheek as payback. Hand that had been resting on the door handle for this exchange finally put into motion. 

Before you closed the door you turned to peer into the car, “And to end the night evenly tied, I like my coffee with a lot of cream and sugar, the less coffee I can taste the better.”

She gave a short chuckle, and you smiled closing the door. She waited till you unlocked the door and stepped inside before she drove off.

You closed the door behind you, pulled off your heels, and walked upstairs. Took two rights and then walked into your room. Dropping the shoes unceremoniously on the floor you flopped onto the bed gracelessly. It had gone over better than you were expecting, it had actually been fun.

Maybe the two months would go by faster than you were expecting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sort of have a plot, I promise.

Unsurprisingly breakfast the next morning brought questions. You stood semi-hunched over your bowl of cereal, half asleep when Liz decided it was time to interrogate you.

Your sister per usual had her morning cup of coffee, reading her newspaper with her glasses perched precariously on her nose. “When did this thing with Angelique happen?”

“Only a few days ago, I ran into her in the record shop and we hit it off.” Not technically a lie.

“You told me there was nothing between you two.”

“When you had asked there was nothing. The next day however she took me to lunch and-” you gestured as if it explained everything.

Liz stared at you, “Does this have something to with Eileen?”

“No.” Strong, certain. 

She stared you down, her disapproving glare aimed perfectly at you. “Be honest with me.”

You were, but you also knew that Liz was concerned. So, you caved, looking away first. “Angie and I are a relatively new thing, I planned to tell you eventually. No, this has nothing to do with Eileen or Barnabas. Yes, I set boundaries.” You looked back at your sister. “Am I missing anything?”

She set down the newspaper, shaking her head slowly. “Of all people to date-”

“I know, I know.”

“You deserve to be happy.”

“I _am_ happy.”

She sighed, “I’m not saying the only way to be happy is with someone. Especially if you’re just jumping back into another toxic relationship, with a different person this time.” 

While she was right, the words sounded less like something your sister would say and more like Julia’s advice. Regardless you nodded along. “I know.” In the corner of your eye you caught the unmistakable shadow of Dr. Hoffman, in the kitchen doorway. “But you also know that I hate it when you and Julia team up to psychoanalyze me.”

There was a snicker at the door and Julia walked through, not bothering to hide the fact that she had been eavesdropping. “It at least comes from a place of love.” Liz muttered.

Julia walked to the table and sat next to Liz, “Regardless, if you want my professional advice, I’d say at the very least sleep with her before you break up.”

Liz slapped her on the arm, nearly spilling Julia’s drink. “Not what we’re trying to push for.”

Julia shrugged, “First off have you seen that woman?” 

Liz glared at her, and Julia was quick to continue.

“Secondly, by letting her have a no strings attached relationship, Y/N gets to set as many boundaries and emotional safety nets before her next actual relationship.”

You appreciated the vote in confidence, but you weren’t exactly sure how much Julia knew of Angie. If she even knew that the entire reason for your family’s curse was because Barnabas had done just that. “While I appreciate the input, this isn’t some fling with Angie.” It was honestly the opposite of no strings attached.

“Oh.” Julia paused for a moment, contemplating something before turning to whisper something to Liz. 

Which you took as your time to escape, halfway out of the kitchen you almost didn’t hear Liz. “She should come over for dinner then.”

You turned back to face them both. Liz continued, “If you’re actually invested in this relationship then we might as well play nice.” She finished.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“That’d actually mean a lot to me, thanks.” You said, then turned around and left.

—————

You waited till you were at the station and there was no one milling around, before dialing Angie’s number, Gladys picked up and after some small talk transferred you to Angie. “Ms. Bouchard speaking.” Her voice clear and direct.

“It’s Y/N.”

“Missing me already?” She asked, amused, already her voice had taken that velvety tone you were used to hearing. The sudden difference between her professional tone and her usual teasing one was a stark contrast, leaving you momentarily at a loss.

“Is it that obvious?” You asked finally, your fingers idly playing with the coiled phone cord. “But also, my family wants you to join us for dinner. You’re busy on Friday night, right?”

“Well I did have an event with the Ladies Supper Club...”

“Perfect! I’ll say you’re-”

“But they’ll understand that you and your family come first.”

Your stomach dropped. “Give me a break, Angie.”

“It’ll be fun, sweetheart.” You could practically hear her smirk on the other end. Picturing her leaning back in one of those nice plush swivel chairs, her feet propped up on her desk, as she found the best ways to make you suffer.

“What’s fun for you is stressful for me, if you haven’t noticed.” You sighed, closed your eyes and let your head thud against the wall. “On top of that if we’re going to do this then that means we have to be more believable for them. They’ll interrogate us.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Julia just has to glance over at us and she could tell if we’re just faking it.”

“Physical contact and knowing things about each other should pass for intimacy.”

“Should.” You repeated the word. “That doesn’t mean it will.”

“Do you have a better plan?”

“Say you’re busy.”

“Sweetheart, we both know they’ll be more suspicious if I never make a point to brag to them.”

It was true, you just didn’t want to deal with all of this. “Yeah. We can go over stuff tomorrow, I’ll bring lunch.”

“Good.” She cleared her throat, “Now on to other business, what are you wearing?”

You sighed. “Goodbye, Angie.”

——————

You shifted the paper bag to one hand, the elevator doors opened, and you offered a polite smile to Gladys. “Here’s a number two from Barry’s. Is Angie in a meeting?”

She took the food gratefully, “No, you can go in.” She looked up at you, “It’s so sweet that you bring her lunch.”

You nodded, “I know how hard she works.” You commented offhandedly.

If she could melt into a puddle, she would have at that moment. Instead she gave you a soft smile and waved towards Angie’s office. 

——————

"How did we end up together?" Angie asked, clicking her pen periodically.

"I told Liz that we hit it off after running into each other in the record shop." 

"Nothing romantic?" 

"Was it supposed to be?" 

She pursed her lips, "I suppose not, but I would've preferred it."

You smirked, “I never pegged you for a hopeless romantic.” You said writing it in the corner of your paper.

“And you’re not?”

You shrugged, “For the right person maybe.” Angie was staring at you when you looked up again, something calculating but not necessarily cold in her gaze. “What else?” 

She looked back at her own notes, “Anything.”

No pressure there. You fidgeted with the ring on your middle finger. “I have a weird fear of tentacles,”

Her eyebrows shot up, her lips curled upwards, but said nothing.

“-don’t know why. I don’t drink, unless under extremely stressful situations.”

“So, will you be drinking at this dinner?”

“Unfortunately, no.” You sighed, then straightened up. “Your turn.”

She considered for a moment, "I drink when I feel like it, I tend to be a heavy sleeper, and..." She thought for a moment. "I make the best fettuccine alfredo."

You wrote them down, finally setting the notes aside. You took a break from the questions and ate your lunch, asking about how her day was and vice versa. Eventually however she said the inevitable, “I have a meeting in,” she checked her watch, “five minutes.”

You stood up. “Well it’s been fun- “

“Don’t leave just yet.” 

“You have to work.”

She smirked, “Don’t worry, Gladys will come to remind me in a couple of minutes. By then we should be in some compromising position.”

You took a step closer to the desk, hesitant. “You can’t be serious.”

“I won’t bite, sweetheart. Unless you ask.” She gave a smug smile.

You stared her down, she stared back, the smile never leaving her face. Screw her and her stupidly attractive face. 

Finally, you rolled your eyes and walked around the desk, pulled her chair away from her desk and straddled her lap. “Is this what you were thinking?” You asked flatly.

Her hands rested at your waist, “Has anyone told you, you’re very hot when you’re angry?” She looked up at you, her hands brushed farther down to stop at your hips. “You know not all of this has to be an act.”

“I’m not going to fuck you.”

She tsked, her gaze dropping and looking away from you disappointed. “I know you’re attracted to me.” 

“You’re gorgeous. But that doesn’t mean anything if I don’t like you as a person.”

She muttered, “That’s the reverse of a backhanded compliment.” Then leaned forward, “What are you uncomfortable with?”

“Nothing under my clothes. You?”

“If I get uncomfortable, I’ll let you know.”

You leaned forward and kissed her. Tame compared to the conversation, but that only spurred Angie. She grabbed behind your knees and pulled you closer, nipped at your bottom lip. You almost wished you remembered what had happened that night when you were drunk, because if you had already known she kissed like this you probably wouldn't have been as turned on as you felt. 

One of your hands slid to rest above her heart, the other threading into her hair. You kissed back with fervor. Angie pulled away, breathless, looking like she wanted to take you to bed, and your body was responding a little too pleasantly to that thought. 

A second of consideration and then you were unbuttoning her silk button-up blouse that probably cost a fortune. She shifted in her seat; you only unbuttoned the first three buttons before stopping. Her eyes were on you, pupils blown so wide you might’ve thought she was high if you didn’t know what she had been up to in the past minute or two. You were sure your eyes looked the same.

You adjusted her shirt so that there was just a bit of cleavage showing, “I have to make sure you’re gracefully disheveled,” you muttered when her eyebrow arched, and her smirk widened.

She gave a short huff of laughter, you shut her up with another kiss, because it was a pretty sound and she didn’t make it easy with being so damn attractive.

You could feel her smiling against your lips, and it only made you rougher. Cupping her jaw and tugging her bottom lip between your teeth. Soon enough she pulled away again, you stopped instantly, concern filled you that you might have gone too far. “-I can always reschedule the meeting,” Gladys' voice filled the room and you slowly realized with your lust-addled brain that Angie was talking with her. Fuck. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Angie answered.

You hadn’t heard her even knock, much less come in, you tried to pull away and get off Angie’s lap. Her hands were still holding your legs in place, she didn’t so much as look at you, but you noticed the corner of her lip quirk up. She still didn’t let go of you yet, focused on whatever Gladys was saying. 

Fine. You could play this game. 

You leaned to whisper in her ear, but at the last moment brushed your lips just below her ear, and she went slack. Her hands let go of your legs, you smiled, making a note to try that out again another time. You finally stood up, “I really should get going anyways,” you said, glancing at Gladys who didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised or embarrassed, which was more than you could say for yourself. You could only assume what she had seen working for Angie. Speaking of Angie, she was staring up at you, mouth parted only slightly, her face flushed and... _oh_. 

That was something you were definitely going to have to try again.

Footsteps faded and you knew Gladys had gone back to her desk, you smirked at Angie. Because for once you were proud to see you had flustered her more. “See you tomorrow night.” 

You didn’t make eye contact with Gladys on the way out.

———————

By eleven o’clock that night you were certain you could list every note you had on Angie. Still you laid in bed and reread it for the third time, adding in other things you remembered as they came. The door creaked open, you glanced up just as David’s head poked through. “Did you have another nightmare?” You asked before he even opened his mouth.

He nodded, “Can I sleep in here?”

You patted the space next to you, “Come on.” 

David was under the covers before you could ask your next question.

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

He shook his head, “It was the same one again.”

You nodded; he had been having the same recurring dream the past few months. Roger wasn’t one to put up with it and Liz wasn’t sure quite how to deal with it, but you remembered when you were younger. When the house seemed huge and scary, foreboding and full of ghosts.

“Aunt Liz said that you used to have nightmares like I do.” David said, yawning. 

“Yeah, I did.” They had started when you moved into Collinswood and continued regularly well into your teen years. It got to the point that you tried to stay awake as long as you could to prevent them.

He settled in, “How did you get over them?”

You didn’t. They sometimes still happened, and you would wake up in a cold sweat. “I realized they couldn’t hurt me, and that when I woke up in the morning things would be okay.” You lied. 

“What did you dream about?” He asked, and you suspected he was trying to keep himself awake for as long as he could by talking.

You offered a gentle smile, “I’m not going to give you more nightmares.” You moved one of the pillows between the two of you and then another on the other side of David, bracketing him in to keep him from smacking you in the middle of the night. 

“Dad said you used to sleepwalk too.” 

Your stomach twisted at the mention of _that_ , “Once or twice, but that hasn’t happened in years.” You returned to the paper, then spoke quietly, “You need some sleep.” 

You prayed it never would again. 

The dreams like David's had a recurring theme, you always found yourself in an old room of Collinswood, you didn’t know how you knew it was here, you just did. People milled about in there, dressed in clothes that looked old. As you got older you were able to tell they were from different periods. Sometimes you could hear what they said, but that specific night you couldn’t make out anything except murmuring. 

You never spoke to them; you knew something terrible would happen if you did. The night of the incident, you couldn’t have been older than David. You wanted to be in your bed, you wanted a glass of milk, you wanted out of that room, so you cleared your throat. “Can I please go to bed?” They were dreams, Liz said they couldn’t hurt you.

The murmuring stopped and suddenly all eyes were on you. They rushed forward towards you and you woke up. Your legs wobbly, slowly you realized you were standing up. Then you realized with dawning horror you were in that same room. 

Your screams tore through the house. 

The door was locked, and you threw yourself against it, later you would find out that the room had been boarded up from the outside years before you were born. How you had managed to get in there, you rather not know. 

Regardless, Roger had broken down the door when they found you, it was the only way to get to you at the time. It was also one of the few kind things that you reminded yourself of when Roger was an asshole. Which was all the time.

You swallowed and put the list away, stuffing it in the drawer of your nightstand and flicking off the lamp. The room was thrown into darkness and you pulled the covers up. 

—————

You walked down the hallway, footsteps light and careful, avoiding the floorboards that tended to creak. There was a creak behind you, and you looked back to find nothing. You sighed and walked towards the kitchen, wishing you had already gotten your glass of water before bed.

The room shifted and you felt your head spin a little, you pressed your hand against the wall and suddenly the room shifted again. You shut your eyes and waited for the dizziness to stop, it did. You peeked open one eye, then the other. Staring at the faces of the ghosts.

The last time you had dreamt of this room you were fifteen. You took a slow steady breath in and out, and looked around the room, you were standing in the center of what looked to be a tearoom, fireplace in front of you. A portrait of a couple hanging above it, and around you more portraits, all staring down at you.

The ghosts—your ancestors you realized quickly, noting the portraits were of the people milling about in here. You scoffed, loudly. Eyes turned towards you and this time you stared back, “What the fuck do you all want?”

Some glared, some offered pitying expressions, and some stared blankly. “You would do well to speak to your elders with respect.” One man huffed, crossing his arms. 

This was...different. You didn’t feel as fearful, maybe it was just because for once you were more pissed than afraid. “If you wanted respect you shouldn’t have tormented me for years.” You moved around the room, still no one made a rush towards you this time. 

“Enough Edward.” Another man spoke, heavier, older, his clothes seemed the oldest out of everyone’s. His arm looped with a woman whose clothes looked like they belonged in the same period. 

Edward clenched his jaw but said nothing. So, this man was obviously in charge.

The man turned to you, “You’re here because we need to talk with you.” 

“Right.” Roughly fifteen of your long-dead ancestors calling you in for a meeting, totally normal shit. “About what?”

“You’re the closest anyone has come to breaking the witch’s curse.” He said plainly.

You laughed abruptly. Startling not only them, but yourself. You quieted down eventually waving them off, “Sorry, sorry.” You crossed your arms, “I’ve been having nightmares of this room, and of all of you for all of my life. All because you thought I might break the curse?”

“We have to take every chance we can, to ensure the safety of the family.” He spoke calmly.

You clenched your jaw and nodded. “Right.” There was a stain on the rug that you noticed and focused on, “But you do realize that I was a child, right? Like you were all aware that I was terrified of all of you, but you never tried to just--” you cut yourself off. _To just stop. To apologize. To do your best to not intimidate me._

“We were never untoward you; children are sensitive to matters like these.” He said.

“I woke up here one night because I asked to go back to bed. You all ran toward me.”

He paused for a moment, “It was the first time we could truly interact with you; the veil had lifted enough, and we were eager.” 

“You never apologized for it, afterwards.”

“It would’ve been a waste of precious time, like this entire conversation.”

You stepped forward and some of the ghosts closer to you flinched. “I’m sorry, if you wanted to not waste precious time you should have explained all of this to me throughout the many years you wasted on whispering.”

“You’d do your best to hold your tongue.” One woman snapped.

Anger built and you were so so close to decking a few of your ancestors. They probably deserved it, scratch that, they definitely deserved it. Instead you laughed humorlessly, “Or what, you’ll haunt me?”

In your anger you inadvertently woke yourself up. With a quick glance at the clock you realized it was five in the morning, you huffed still not over the conversation, and rolled over. Promising to yourself that if you found yourself in that room again when you fell asleep you would raise hell with those assholes.

When you fell back asleep you didn’t dream, and when you woke up in the morning you were thankful for that fact.

——————

You took steadying breaths; it shouldn’t be this stressful. It was dinner with your family and girlfriend. Technically it was a dinner with your sort of friend, sort of enemy, who you were pretending to date because then she’d fix the curses she put on your family. Oh, and along with that her ex, your distant relative who was the reason for all the curses, would be at the dinner. But every time you thought of that you felt nauseous.

Were you overthinking things? Probably, but it was safer this way. That morning you had resorted to a new low, just to ensure that things went according to plan, you conveniently washed all of Liz’s nice dresses. All except for one that was slightly tighter in certain places, you knew Julia and Liz had their thing. Undefined as it was, it was still glaringly obvious that they cared for each other more than either let on, but you were not above playing dirty to make sure this plan went through.

After you had done that all that was left to do was overthink so instead you focused on your appearance, there was nothing else you could change at this point besides adjusting your shirt.

You stared in the mirror, listening to your siblings in the other room. 

“Roger please be on your best behavior.” You heard Liz.

There was a knock on the door, and you opened it to see Angie, dressed as always to the nines. A scarlet plunge neck bodysuit, that you were attempting to not stare at, and failing miserably. When you glanced up at her face she was smirking, you tried to think of something to distract from the fact that you had openly been staring at her chest. “You look beautiful, as always.” You said, voice verging on breathless.

She raked her eyes over you quickly and the possessive gesture sent lightning up your spine. Angie finally smiled, “As do you.” She stepped in, close enough for you to smell her perfume. Something different than the last, almost spicy, cologne you realized dumbly. Which shouldn't have been such a turn on and yet. “No hello kiss?” 

You gave her a warning look.

“Kidding, sweetheart.” You knew she really wasn’t. “Are you ready for this?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Your siblings walked in, the tail end of the conversation. Roger’s voice entered the room before the man himself. “I mean Angie’s hot but she’s also a bitch.” 

You winced, “We’re already off to a great start.”

Liz and Roger rounded the corner. Liz had the decency to look ashamed, but Roger barely acted like he was embarrassed. Angie didn’t seem deterred in the slightest.

“Elizabeth.”

“Angelique,” Liz gave her an icy smile, “I’m so glad you could make it to dinner.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Your time to shine, you smiled and let your arm wrap around Angie’s waist lightly. Also, to make sure that if there was a fight in the next few minutes you could direct Angie quickly out of here. “After all I know how important family is to Y/N.” Angie said, smiling at you.

Yeah, so fucking important that you had gotten yourself into this mess willingly all in the name of your family.

There was some awkward small talk before dinner was served. Angie sat next to you.

Dinner was surprisingly nice; everything was extremely clean and well prepared. New silverware, four course meal. You realized as you took your seat, that they were trying to impress her, or intimidate her. Both were likely considering your family, neither would actually work.

Without missing a beat Angie picked up a flute of champagne and thanked Elizabeth for inviting her to such a dinner. 

Julia arrived per usual five minutes late and with her third drink already in hand. She sat down, glanced around the table, lingered on you and Angie sitting next to each other before her eyes made a detour to Liz, and stayed there for the rest of the night.

Angie for all intents and purposes really was surprisingly not as passive aggressive as you were expecting and shot Barnabas only the occasional glare which was a step up from what you were expecting.

Conversation was scarce, not that there was much to discuss without getting into a fight. But you really should have prepared for at least one conversation starter or something. Anything to break the awkward and tense silence.

It didn’t help that Barnabas was torn between loudly flirting with Victoria and glaring at Angie. You felt slightly bad for Victoria’s eardrums as she was sitting next to Barnabas and yet you could clearly hear him despite your seat at the other end of the table.

Angie didn’t seem bothered at all, more focused on her meal and you. Her hand dropping to your thigh, it gave you pause for a moment, nearly inhaling your water instead of drinking it. Especially as her hand inched up your thigh.

Quickly you held her hand, deciding it was better than it wandering. Unbothered you continued to eat with your other hand, you knew it was just to tease you.

Elizabeth cleared her throat and you glanced up. Angelique pulled your interlocked hands into her lap completely unfazed. “So, Angelique, when did you two get together?”

“Only a few weeks ago,” She looked over at you, smiling, obviously enjoying teasing you to no end. Then turned back to Liz, more of a polite smile directed at her.

“You’re in a courtship?” Barnabas asked disbelief evident. “But you are both-”

If you had previously thought that dinner was quiet this was absolute silence. The cacophony of forks and spoons clinking on the plates stopped. Angie’s hand squeezed yours, for once you returned the slight squeeze. Opening your mouth ready to argue.

Liz beat you to the punch, “Is there a problem with that Barnabas?” She asked, the warning behind her voice obvious. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. A front row seat to watching your sister destroy Barnabas because of a homophobic comment wouldn’t be such a terrible night.

Even Victoria, god bless her, she seemed to be watching him apprehensively. Offering him no support.

He caught on quickly enough, “No, no problem Elizabeth.”

“Good.” 

And then dinner resumed, forks and spoons clinking against plates. 

You glanced at Angie, flashed a pointed smile. She returned the quick smile and you returned to your food, before either of you would start laughing.

As hesitant as you were to voice this knowing that Angie would no doubt have a field day with any praise, this whole fake relationship with Angie was more bearable than you thought.

She knew enough about your family and the dysfunctional dynamics to not bat an eye at it. She could take as much as she dished out. Loathe to admit it, you enjoyed her company when she let her guard down. 

After dinner, yet before dessert was served you pulled Angie aside. “I was thinking and feel free to say no, but what if you stayed the night?” 

She leaned closer, “Why?”

You shrugged trying to act nonchalant, “We both know Barnabas and as soon as you leave, he’s going to give me a long arduous lecture on the perils of dating you, and possibly women in general.”

She smiled, fixing a stray hair for you. “That sounds like your problem.”

You gave her your best pleading expression, “Please.”

She sighed, finally giving it actual consideration. “I’m not certain that your family won’t try to murder me in my sleep, especially if I so much as set foot in your room right now.”

Completely reasonable if you were being honest. 

“You can come home with me if you prefer, I’ll drive you home in the morning. I promise to be perfectly chivalrous.” She teased.

You considered for a moment, ignoring the way Angie was watching you closely. Then overheard Barnabas from the other room asking where you were. “I’ll do it.” She smirked, pleasantly surprised. 

——————

“That went better than I was expecting.” You said when you were both in the car, out of sight from the house.

“What were you expecting exactly?”

“Fire, maybe some blood, a lot more screaming.”

“I wouldn’t have been that dramatic.”

“No, not from you. I expected that from Barnabas. I expected you to arrive when the firefighters did.”

She laughed, and it was really damn pretty. The sound lit a warm feeling in your chest, and you needed it to stop, no matter how pleasant the sensation was.

Instead you turned on the radio, changing stations till you found one you liked. “Do you plan on serenading me again?” Angie asked.

“I was drunk.” You said defensively. “I don’t normally sing in front of people.”

She smirked, face illuminated by the headlights, “So what I’m hearing is that I’m special.” 

You chuckled, “That’s one way to put it.” You berated yourself for agreeing to this, at least if you had stayed you could’ve gotten the entire lecture over with Barnabas. Sleeping over at Angie’s would just delay the lecture, would just present more problems. You turned up the first song that played, hoping to tune out the anxiety.

The drive to her house wasn’t as long as you expected, or maybe you had zoned out longer than expected. Angie pulled into her driveway; the headlights shone on her house. Even in the dark you could tell it was big, not as big as Collinswood, but every inch screamed wealth.

You walked into the house—home. It was comfy, certainly more welcoming than Collinswood. Maybe it's because there were less ghosts you mused humorlessly. Still it looked like it would be featured out of Better Homes and Gardens. 

The hallway entrance widened into a large room, the living room and kitchen. Large windows looked out onto her backyard. There was a hallway to the right, and to the left of the room.

She dropped her keys unceremoniously on the kitchen island and turned back to you. “I’ll give you the tour tomorrow, but I imagine you’re tired, I know I am.” She toed off her heels, walking down the right hall, “I don’t really have any spare bedrooms.”

You wondered what all the other rooms were in her almost mansion if they weren’t bedrooms, you thought to yourself that there was probably a sex dungeon in one of them. And then you pushed that thought out of your mind as quickly as it occurred because that was the complete opposite of what you needed to be thinking about. 

“Could I have a blanket and pillow?”

She turned back to look at you quizzically.

You gestured towards the couch. 

“You can sleep in my bed; the couch isn’t exactly comfortable.” She said dismissively.

You were an adult of course taking the bed would be the smart decision, but you weren’t the easiest of sleepers. Especially as the nightmares had come back, you had a feeling that tonight would be worse. “You really don’t have a guest room?”

She smirked, “Did I offend your delicate sensibilities by offering my bed?”

You shook your head, “I was surprised is all, I would think that with this big of a house you’d have an extra room.” You walked towards her bedroom.

“Most of my guests tend to stay in my bedroom as it is, so there’s never been any point to it. You’re the first person I’ve heard complaints from.” 

You followed her into her room, “Forgive me if this is the first time someone didn’t jump at the opportunity to climb into bed with you.”

Her bedroom was like the rest of the house comfortable and beautifully decorated. There was a king size bed with two nightstands on either side of it to your right, and the left had a dresser and an entryway that you suspected led to her closet and bathroom. 

She produced a pair of pajamas from her dresser, “So I take it you wouldn’t appreciate me sleeping naked?”

You stared at her in shock.

She chuckled, “Kidding sweetheart. I don’t want to give you a heart attack.” She patted your cheek in a mocking display of concern. Disappearing into her bathroom, to change you assumed.

You looked around, noticing the various bottles of perfume all that looked undoubtedly expensive, besides that the room was almost comfortably impersonal. No photos, nothing noticeable that seemed to scream Angie. But maybe you just weren't paying enough attention. 

What caught your attention the most however was the view of Collinsport. Lights twinkling in the distance, it was beautiful. Small and spread out enough that it felt precious. You could picture the orange light out of people’s windows, could practically imagine the dinner’s people were cooking for their loved ones and themselves and you felt peace. Wished you had that and pushed down the longing just as quickly as it appeared.

“Nice view don’t you think?” 

You looked over your shoulder. Angie was standing there in pajamas, face bare and of fucking course she still looked gorgeous. She looked softer though, not that you would ever say it. You turned back to the view, “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s the main reason I bought this house.” She moved towards the window. “There’s something about looking at something that not everyone has seen, and most people won’t.” 

You glanced at her; she was staring at the view. Without her heels there wasn’t such a noticeable height difference. She was only a few inches taller.

She met your gaze and you realized you had been staring. “You can go change.” She didn’t tease you and say, _unless you rather do it right here_. Which was an improvement in your mind, or maybe you were both tired from the day, regardless you nodded and went to change in the bathroom.

She was already sitting in bed when you came back out, lamp on and reading a book. 

“Thanks for letting me stay tonight.”

She glanced up from her book, “It’s nothing.” She returned to her book, “I really can't comprehend how you can deal with them day in and day out." She turned the page. 

"They're not always terrible, you just have a tendency to bring out the worst in them." You climbed into the bed.

She hummed, "Do I bring out the worst in you?"

You rolled your eyes, "You wish you did."

She looked over; eyes lit up. 

You smiled tiredly, "Before you try to sneak in an innuendo about how I'm already in your bed or something, I am tired."

She turned back to her book, "You're such a tease."

You laid down, "Coming from you that's a compliment."

Not too long after the lamp turned off, you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing. Letting your mind clear just for tonight, tomorrow you could deal with whatever lecture you had to listen to, but tonight you simply wanted to relax. Trying to ignore the lingering fear that you might find yourself in that room tonight. You weren’t necessarily afraid of your ancestors themselves, so long as your anger outweighed your fear you knew you wouldn’t be terrified. But there was the fear of having them talk about Angie especially when she was lying right next to you.

Maybe you would get lucky and have a dreamless night’s rest. Or maybe you would have another nightmare that didn’t feature the weight of your ancestor’s judgement on you. So long as you didn’t wake up screaming you wouldn’t even mind that.

Minutes passed, the sheets rustling as Angie probably got comfortable, suddenly you felt a hand resting against your stomach. 

You froze.

“You always tense when I touch you.” She muttered. “Do you not like it when people touch you?” Her hand lifted just barely, as if signaling that she would move away the second you asked. “Or is it just me?”

Relief flooded you, you sighed. “I don’t mind either, I’m just not used to it. You’ve met my family, we're not exactly affectionate people.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“If you want- “

“Do _you_ want me to stop?” 

“No.” 

Her hand rested fully on your stomach; you were momentarily made aware of your own breathing. Which meant you had to focus on inhaling and exhaling and then you felt stupid, because you were sure Angie was convinced you had forgotten how to breathe. You may have not been used to physical affection, but you did know how to at least breathe. Most of the time.

——————

You woke up as predicted with your ancestors staring at you, disdain evident. Slowly, you stood, wiping the dust off you. “Well hello to you all, too.”

“Do you know how idiotic it is to welcome that whore into our ancestral home?” The man in charge asked. “To force the remaining Collins’ to break bread with her.”

You shrugged, “Well I’m at least trying to make headway with this whole ‘breaking the curse,’ I don’t exactly see any of you helping. So, I’d suggest getting off your high horse.”

He huffed, “We can’t interact with the mortal plane as easily.” 

_Well isn’t that convenient._ Instead of voicing another sarcastic comment that would piss them off even more you chose the safer route. “So, I’m really supposed to believe that in nearly two hundred years, no one has gotten this far with her?”

Suddenly they all spoke in unison a loud resounding, “Yes!” You jumped. Waited for them to attack. Some grumbled things under their breaths, and one pinched the bridge of her nose, but no one made a move towards you. When they didn’t you relaxed. 

The man stepped forward, took a deep breath, then sighed. “I suspect you didn’t face the full of her wrath and therefore don’t understand the severity of the situation, since you're not a full Collins,” he cleared his throat, “I only mean she might have more in common with the first bastard child of our line than a legitimate Collins.” 

There were a few that shot smug smiles your way, as if the very thing they were proud of hadn’t possibly killed them. 

_Assholes._ You gave a tight smile, “Please I'm not the first.” You didn’t know for sure that you weren’t, but the way some of them squirmed was enough to have made the comment worth it. “And anyways- “

Suddenly you were laying back in bed with Angie, her arm and leg thrown across you. You weren’t sure if your ancestors had somehow thrown you out of your own dream, or you had woken yourself up. Regardless you didn’t care.

Morning light was barely shining through the windows, and you knew it would be better to get up now. Carefully you moved Angie and made your way to the kitchen. Looking at it in the light, you were able to notice more of the details.

The dirty dishes in the sink, the wall art, none of them featured people. Which you found a little lonely, but the art was pretty enough. Her backyard unsurprisingly looked beautiful; she even had a pool. You decided to make coffee, hoping it wasn’t overstepping any boundaries. After looking around for the coffee and such you started the coffee machine. 

When it was finished you poured yourself a cup, added a ridiculous amount of milk and sugar. Leaned back against the counter and relaxed. Your mind wandered back to your dream, and the knowledge that there was some way to break the curse. Apparently, you were on the right track towards whatever it was.

“You know the way into a woman’s heart, don’t you?” You glanced up to see Angie making her way towards the coffee machine, and you. She had a bedhead, but it was cute on her. Good to know she wasn’t perfect all the time.

“Coffee?” You sidestepped so she could pour herself a cup.

She hummed in agreement, “If you had made breakfast too, I might’ve proposed on the spot.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I wasn’t going to raid your fridge.”

She glanced over to you, “I don’t care, you’re free to do whatever you want.”

You nodded. Part of you wanted to mindlessly ask how you could break the curse, there was no doubt that Angie knew how to undo it. But you knew she wouldn’t answer you, if she did it would probably be to change the subject to a matter you didn’t want to discuss.

There was a possibility that the answer was in this house, but it seemed too cheerful a place to have something like a cauldron. Finally, you risked the comment, “Your house isn’t what I expected.” 

“And what did you expect?”

You shrugged, “Some mansion that rivaled Collinswood’s size, definitely something gloomier, maybe even a cauldron.”

She smiled, “Speaking from experience anything larger than this is a bitch to dust.”

“You don’t have a maid?” Which sounded incredulous and so snobby, but you honestly couldn’t imagine Angie setting a day aside to clean this herself.

“It would only give someone the opportunity to find my cauldron.” She hummed stirring her coffee with an air of indifference.

You honestly couldn’t tell if she was kidding, so there went that plan.

Angie drove you home as promised, dropped you off with a kiss goodbye and a teasing remark per usual.

It was obvious that Barnabas was waiting up for you to return, because he was still awake at ten in the morning. His lecture started as soon as you closed the front door. “Do you know just what that witch has done to our family?”

“Yes, you bring it up every few days.”

“Well I wouldn’t have to, if you weren’t so dead set on consorting with the succubus-”

“She doesn’t seem half bad.” You said to throw him off his already memorized speech.

“You are aware that she’s simply using you to get to me? You are sadly nothing more than our last name and connection to me, in her eyes.”

The only obvious way that would seem to work would to make him so angry that he left the room. “Oh, I’m aware, but she’s a good kisser so I can’t complain.”

There was a split second before he processed the words, and suddenly a mixture of anger and disgust crossed his face. “Elizabeth!” He bellowed, taking off towards her study, “Please talk some sense into your sister!”

—————

For a few days you didn’t see Angie, or hear from her, you put the thought of her and your family out of your mind and stayed preoccupied and entirely focused on your job. The days passed in a blur of tasks and things that you couldn’t list due to the almost routine of it all. It was exactly what you needed.

Except for the two bodies turning up due to Barnabas, but they were also known criminals, so you didn’t quite feel bad.

You tried to keep your mind off it honestly, otherwise you would start to question your morals and weigh between the altruism of the town and the needs of your family. You hated that you knew deep down that nothing mattered except the safety of your family.

Of course, your luck ran out when an emergency town council meeting was called due to a few more bodies turning up, thanks to Barnabas.

You parked, noticing Angie’s car already there. 

Nearly all the members were there when you walked in. Angie saw you, she walked up smiling, kissing you on the cheek. You halfheartedly leaned into it, wondering if she ever got tired of this.

She pulled away, but kept close, "Isn't it odd how this serial killer has started to only target criminals? It's almost as if he's suddenly developed morals." She said quietly, knowingly. 

"We might’ve restricted his diet." You replied equally as quiet.

"To?"

"Rapists, abusers, and pedophiles." 

Her lips curled upwards, "I assume by 'we,' you mean only you." 

"Someone had to do it."

The conversation was cut short by someone walking up to talk with Angie, you took that time to escape. Angie probably wanted you with her so that she could flirt with you as she made her rounds, but thankfully she seemed preoccupied. You took your seat, looking through the folder to go over what was on the agenda. 

Halfway through the agenda Angie sat next to you in Mr. Vandermeer’s chair. “You could at least pretend to be happy to see me.” She opened his folder, skimming through the agenda. 

“I am.”

She gave you a disbelieving glance, “Not that I don’t appreciate this little dance of ours, but can we skip that for tonight?”

“What dance?”

“Where you feel the need to be distant because you work yourself up reminding yourself of why you should hate me and then you can’t seem to go through with actually being cruel.” She said flatly, continuing in the same monotone voice, “So you settle for sarcastic remarks, but then you eventually warm up to me and like me.” She glanced over towards the entrance casually, you didn’t look away from her. “But by the time I see you again, we’re back to square one.” She looked back at you, pleased that you were still watching her.

Your defense never made it farther than your mind, you hadn't realized she had been paying attention that closely. Or that you were that easy to read. “Alright. I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?”

She glanced over, taken aback slightly, “You don’t need to make it up to me.” She moved slightly closer, “I’m not going to lie, it would be nice to have your attention more, or for once you to kiss me hello first. But those are simply wants, I’m not going to demand some apologies or gifts like a spoiled child.” She said it sure of herself, pointedly.

You wondered how much you had drunkenly told her of Eileen, or if this particular struck nerve was due to Barnabas. Either was a possibility, but you didn’t plan to ask. 

Angie left to go sit in her seat, and soon she was replaced with Mr. Vandermeer. The meeting was called to order and you noticed that Eileen wasn’t taking the minutes, a substitute secretary was. You reasoned that maybe your luck hadn’t fully run out.

The meeting passed with citizens yelling about the safety measures needed with the serial killer on the loose while the sheriff did what he could to reassure them that he had his best men working on it. While you passively wondered which of the eight policemen Collinsport had were considered the best. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not necessarily a lot of plot in this chapter, mostly just feelings.

The second date took place at the bar, the same bar you had first met. Angie had called earlier that day and claimed she needed a drink after dealing with stupid businessmen all day, and it meant one less date in the future, so you agreed. She ordered a drink, and you got fries and some water, you couldn’t complain.

Angie sat across from you, you picked up your drink, sipped at it and felt a brush against your calf. You moved your leg away, probably taking up too much space under the table. “Sorry,” you muttered. Then popped another fry into your mouth, you glanced around the bar. It was late afternoon, early evening, the bar wasn’t exactly empty, and there were more than a few eyes on you. Or aimed in your general direction at least, one specific man was eyeing Angie brazenly. Finally, you glanced back to Angie. “People are staring.” You murmured low enough, that no one besides Angie would hear you over the jukebox.

“Why wouldn’t they?” She stole a fry off your plate, “We’re practically royalty in their eyes.” 

“Did we come here simply to show off?” 

Angie smirked leaned closer, and her foot brushed against your calf again, this time too precise to be an accident. You scooted back, not willing to play footsie under the table. “We came to the place of our first date, I thought it’d be romantic.”

You suppressed an eye roll, “It’s less romantic when there’s guys like that looking over here at you like you’re some object.” Angie followed your gaze, and landed on the man, she smiled, and turned back to you.

“He’s not half bad looking.” Her hand found yours, and she was smiling a full-on grin. Under normal circumstances you had no problem admitting Angie was hot, anyone with two eyes could see that. But when she smiled, actually smiled, you understood what the poets meant. “Are you jealous sweetheart?” She sounded absolutely delighted at the thought.

“Who you do in your spare time is none of my business, I would however prefer you at least be discreet about it.”

Her smile turned to a small smirk, "I'm not going to sleep with him." Her hand moved up a little higher, thumb rubbing the inside of your wrist. “I'll have you know I'm completely monogamous when I'm in a relationship."

“But the last time you were in a relationship was what? Ninety years ago?” You laughed.

She rolled her eyes, lightly squeezing your hand, “Fuck off.”

Which only made you laugh harder. 

She was still smiling at you when you quieted down, “You didn’t answer my question though; are you jealous?”

“Am I supposed to be?”

“I was hoping you would be.”

You opened your mouth, and nothing came out, honestly you weren’t expecting her to answer bluntly. “...We’ll see.” Slowly you pulled your hands away and grabbed her empty glass. “I’ll get you another drink.”

You walked up to the bar and ordered another drink. Truth be told you had never been the possessive jealous type, sure you got jealous, you were only human. But when it came to being jealous you tended to be more of the quiet jealous. Letting it eat you up inside and thinking that they deserved better than you. Though you suspected Angie wanted you to pretend to be the former.

The bartender slid you the drink, you thanked him and turned to find the same man now standing next over the table and talking with Angie. 

She was smiling, flirting by the looks of it, and you observed. He was holding two drinks, you sighed, you could pretend for at least a few minutes. 

You left the drink on the bar and made your way over, sliding into the booth, arm around her shoulder. “Sorry that took so long.” Leaned in and kissed her lips, not overly affectionate, but it caught her off guard enough that she didn’t kiss back, you pulled away. 

Her lips curled upwards, and you couldn’t quite decipher the look in her eyes, besides pride. She didn’t bother to look away from you, “It’s fine.” 

You leaned in again, slower this time, and she leaned in. Kissed you back, before you pulled away and looked at the man in question, who seemed to be having a revelation. You leaned forward and took the drinks from him. “Thanks. Keep them coming.”

“I’m uh...I’m not the waiter.” He muttered.

Angie leaned closer to you; you wordlessly handed her one of the drinks without breaking eye contact with the man. You gave him a quizzical look, “Well, why are you standing there?”

He opened his mouth then closed it, before walking off. 

You watched him leave and took a sip of the drink then winced, god whatever it was, was disgusting. You clenched your jaw and used it as resolve, the taste lingering on your tongue as you looked back to Angie. “Is that what you had in mind?”

She leaned closer, her hand found the inside of your thigh, “You know if you didn't insist on abstinence, we could have so much fun.” 

You brushed off the comment, “Looks like it’s my turn to go flirt, then.”

You started to slide out of the booth, Angie grabbed your waist, pulling you back against her. "Oh sweetheart," Her mouth brushed the shell of your ear, "you really shouldn't tease me like that." She crooned. You shivered.

You pulled away, not very far considering her arms were still around you, still you shot her a glare. “I don’t appreciate being used like a puppet.”

She rested her chin on your shoulder, “That’s not what that was.”

You turned your head to look at her, disbelief evident. She was so close, didn’t bother to move her head from the spot on your shoulder. It would’ve flustered you if you weren’t so focused on her answer. “Then what was that?”

“I like teasing you, I like when you play along for me. But you can say no.” She pulled away, “I would never force you into something you didn’t want.” She picked up the glass, “I may be cruel, but I’m not evil.”

It was true. Despite everything you knew about her, and what she had done to your family, she wasn’t evil. Misguided, vengeful, occasionally cruel. But she had never acted malicious to you, if anything she had been considerate, kind. Were your ancestors, right? Was she nicer to you because she saw you as less of a Collins? “Can we get out of here?”

Angie stared at you, smile genuine, almost relaxed, she tipped back the drink with ease, and without so much as a grimace. “Of course,” she hummed, “You want me to take you somewhere more private, sweetheart?” It was said of course loud enough that you caught a few not too subtle glances your way, Angie didn’t seem to notice them. Too focused on you.

You rolled your eyes, but you knew it was easier to play this game with her than to try to make her soften every time. So, you replied back equally as loud, “Unless you want me to take you right here and right now.” 

Angie’s lips parted in surprise, eyes widening, and then suddenly darkening, “I’ll take care of the bill and we’ll go.” You slid out of the booth and she followed behind, looping her arms through yours and walking towards the bartender. You followed along, knowing she liked showing you off, as if the town wasn’t aware of your relationship. It didn’t bother you; it was part of the deal after all, but you felt more like an ornament to Angie than her friend.

The moment you left the bar you pulled away from her, stuffing your hands in your pockets. She threw a concerned glance your way but said nothing. The two of you started to walk down the street, you aimlessly kicked at pebbles on the sidewalk.

She spoke. "If it bothers you that much sweetheart, I won't do it again." She said and it sounded so sincere.

"It didn't." You just weren't sure how to articulate that you were bothered by the thought of her being nice to you because she thought of you as less of a Collins. Even if that was a compliment in her eyes. You weren't entirely sure how to explain that without risking facing the fact that you might like her more than she liked you. But you also didn’t want her to think that you were angry at her.

It would be so much easier if you could communicate with her without worrying about if she would use it against you, if she would think less of you. _Fuck it._ You took her hand, “Why do you hate me less than the rest of my family?” 

You pulled her towards one of the clothing stores, focused on her answer while hoping to distract her from the question itself. “What’s there to hate?”

“You hate us on principle.”

“Well I like you.”

The bell chimed above you when you pushed the door open, you let go of her hand and looked around the store, deciding to walk towards a rack of clothes. Angie followed behind.

You weren’t going to ask again and hope she answered, instead you asked. “Are we friends?”

She paused, glanced at you. “I don’t know, are we?”

You knew she wasn’t going to say yes first, neither of you wanted to admit you were more than just acquaintances at this point. But someone would have to. You started to look through the clothes, purposefully indifferent. “Yes, I’d say we are.”

She actually smiled, then looked away as if she was embarrassed. You hadn’t seen her actually smile more than once a day, let alone in the same hour, your face felt hot. “Since we’re friends do you wanna play a game?” Such a childish question, but you both deserved a distraction.

She leaned closer, you continued. “You can pick out an outfit for me, but I get to pick out an outfit for you. Then we try them on.”

Something stupid but fun, something to distract you both. She nodded, “I’m going to win.”

“I don’t know that you can win at this,” you laughed.

She waved it off, “Doesn’t matter, I’ll win sweetheart.” She leaned in, gave you a quick peck on the cheek and went towards the other side of the store.

You didn’t doubt she would, still you searched through the clothes for something outrageously ugly. Elbow deep into your search you found the perfect thing. A romper with a flared collar that looked ready to choke whoever wore it, and the pattern was some neon Hawaiian shirt looking thing. It was ugly, and perfect.

Angie was still looking when you shoved it into her face. “It’s hideous.” She scrunched her nose.

“I know! Isn’t it great!” You grinned.

She rolled her eyes, but took the romper, you waited outside the dressing room. 

She walked out dejectedly, lifted her arms and spun dramatically. “Here.”

“How does it still look good on you?” You scoffed, it was the ugliest thing here and yet it still managed to look good on her.

She turned to look in the mirror, scrunched her nose. “It doesn’t look good on anyone, sweetheart.” Then turned back to you, “Can I go change?” 

You nodded, she returned to the dressing room.

She came back out in her clothes, hung the outfit up on the rack and returned to where she had been looking through the clothes. Finally, she found one, and handed it to you. “Your turn.”

In the dressing room you finally looked at the outfit she chose. It was a rose-colored dress, unlike your choice Angie seemed to pick out something nice. You pulled it on, walked out of the dressing room. “Well?”

She smirked, slowly looking you up and down. She spun her finger in a turnaround gesture, you complied. Then turned to look in the mirror, Angie walked behind you. With the dress on you looked like an expensive trophy wife, you guessed that’s why she had chosen it. Her arms wrapped around you, her chest slotting against your back, slowly her eyes trailed up you. Finally interlocking with your own gaze, “I won.” She hummed. 

When you returned to the dressing room it was slightly harder to take off your dress with your hands shaking, you weren’t going to trip over yourself simply because she flirted with you. And you sure as hell weren’t going to ask her to help with the zipper of this dress, because she’d probably think it was an innuendo or proposition. 

After leaving the store Angie pulled you along into the record shop. There was nothing new that you noticed, but you laughed at the stupid covers, or explained how much you loved this song, or how you hated this singer. In between the discussions you managed to find a record you wanted, but then decided you could wait until your next paycheck and put it back.

Angie picked it back up and set it on the counter without hesitation.

“I don’t need it.” You tried.

She handed the money over wordlessly, “You want it, that’s good enough for me.” 

The owner handed over the change trying to not openly watch you two bicker.

“Let me repay you then.” You said, following her out of the record shop.

She sighed, stopping to look at you. “Can’t I just spoil you because I feel like it?” 

“I don’t like owing people.”

“It’s a gift, sweetheart.” She said it as if it was obvious, then handed you the record.

After the date you arrived home, no one ambushed you to give you a lecture. No one had tried to lecture you since Barnabas, you hoped that Liz or Julia had talked some sense into him. Maybe you got lucky and they had agreed to keep out of it for now, highly unlikely, but still you hoped. 

\----------

The next town meeting was only a week after the emergency meeting. Angie gave you a ride there, insisting that she needed that extra time with you to vent about the stupidity of the other council members.

When you both arrived everything was normal, there was a higher attendance of people, but you wrote it off considering how much everyone feared the serial killer. You were reminded that pretty soon Barnabas would run out of people to feed off but pushed that thought away for now.

You helped yourself to the coffee machine, styrofoam cups and a pot of coffee, no cream or sugar. Angie stood next to you, arm looped casually around your waist, watching as you went about serving yourself. “I'm not sure how certain members of the council have managed to go through life with half a brain cell.” She was acting off slightly, more tense and bitchy.

Mr. Vandermeer walked by, within earshot, but didn’t seem to hear. 

“Angie.” You warned.

“What?”

“Be nice.”

She gave a pointed stare, “I am nice.” You held her gaze, she gave her best innocuous expression. You took a sip of the coffee in your little styrofoam cup, then winced breaking the stare down between you two. She laughed.

“Here you hate your taste buds.” You handed her the coffee, “I’ll just go without some tonight.”

She scoffed as if black coffee wasn’t some type of diesel fuel, and you were the dramatic one. Still she took the cup from you.

You found your seat and glanced through the agenda tonight, barely noticing as more people filed into the room. The previous minutes were presented, and you glanced up when you heard _her_ voice to make direct eye contact with Eileen. You glanced away disinterestedly, it wasn’t any surprise that she had shown up for her job, her presence had simply caught you off guard.

Time seemed slowed down as soon as the meeting commenced, it wasn’t just that there was nothing new to add to the meeting. Which was true, besides discussing safety measures being put into place since there had been another body discovered since the last meeting, there was nothing. But that didn’t seem to bother anyone as everyone else seemed intensely focused on you. Angie glanced across to you every so often, and for every glance she gave, Eileen gave you two. 

You politely decided it would be best to be focused on anything but people, anytime you glanced towards the public, you would catch someone looking between you, Eileen, and Angie, like this was some real time soap opera and soon one of you would profess their love during the meeting.

Halfway through the meeting it became more manageable, if only because you had to discuss the fireworks display that would be overseen by the fire department for the fourth of July. Sure, everyone's eyes were still on you, but at least they had a reason to be. When you finished and no one looked away the meeting became unbearable again.

As the meeting finished and people started to mill about, you still didn’t leave your seat, you wrote down a few more things. Then glanced up, scanning for Angie. She was talking with some man who you vaguely recognized. 

She glanced towards you, and you made a beeline for her. When you were in arms reach, she wordlessly handed you a cup of coffee, almost as pale as Barnabas. Exactly how you like your coffee, you took a sip. Perfect. 

Just as you were starting to tune into whatever conversation that Angie and this man were having, he left. She turned her attention back to you, you spoke first. “Where did you find the cream and sugar?”

“I asked someone to grab it from the breakroom.” She moved closer, arm wrapping around you again. Like she couldn’t stand not being close. “I’ve decided that you don’t like coffee, you like milk and sugar and a splash of coffee.” 

You chuckled, “I can’t be blamed just because I don’t like coffee that tastes like diesel fuel.” You relaxed against her, “This meeting was unbearable.”

She kissed your temple, “And yet you managed. Speaking of unbearable, Eileen is looking over here.”

You knew she was, hell almost all the people here were.

“As long as she isn’t walking over, we’re fine.” You answered, looking up at Angie. She was glaring over at Eileen. Hot and adorable at the same time. “Are you jealous?”

That made Angie look at you, and you knew you had hit the nail on the head.

You smiled, “Oh my god, you are.”

She scoffed, “Why would I be jealous of her? You’ll end up in my bed by the end of the night as far as anyone is concerned.”

Suppressing an eye roll at the her-ness of the comment; snarky, prideful, and flirty all at the same time. _Sleeping next to each other,_ you wanted to clarify, but didn’t. 

“Does it not bother you?” She asked.

“Not really. If you put a few shots in me, and if the entire town wasn’t aware that I’m dating you, then maybe.” Though you knew the answer you still asked, “Does it bother you?”

“I don’t like people looking at what’s mine.”

You did your best to suppress a laugh, “That’s a lie, you live for bragging.”

“I don’t like people thinking they can have what’s mine.” She clarified.

“Might want to keep that possessiveness in check. I agreed to a few dates, not my soul.”

She rolled her eyes, “You know what I mean.”

“I do, and it’s adorable that you’re so jealous.” She gave you a soft glare, you continued undeterred. “But I’d like to remind you that the only person I’d dream of seducing here is you.”

“Liar,” she scoffed. “If you wanted to sleep with me you could’ve done it by now.” She finished indignant.

You could’ve, but you didn’t want to add fuckbuddies to the already complicated relationship between you and Angie. “It’s a test of will everyday I’m around you.” You teased; she didn’t find it funny. “Considering you’ve been acting off I’m assuming you already knew Eileen would be here tonight?”

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

It was sweet, more thoughtful than you gave Angie credit for. 

"So, you worried by yourself."

She glanced away, almost as if she was shy that she had been caught being thoughtful. You handed her your coffee and muttered that you needed to go to the bathroom. Partly true, but also because you wanted to kiss her. Actually, kiss her, tell her how much it meant to you, but you weren’t going to confront that feeling.

\--------

You walked out of the bathroom and rounded the corner and walked straight into someone, “Sorry.” Then you noticed who it was, and you didn’t feel as terrible.

Eileen offered a small smile, “You’re fine, it was my bad.”

You gave a small nod and walked around her, “I actually wanted to talk with you.” She said, sidestepping so that you were forced to stop.

“I’m going to have to pass on that.”

“It wasn’t a suggestion.” She stated flatly.

“Neither was mine.” You retorted.

“I’m sorry about what happened, and how everything went down.”

She was probably sorrier that she had gotten caught, you thought. Still you gave a halfhearted shrug, “It’s in the past, I’m happier now.”

That gave her pause, before she blurted out. “I want you back.”

You laughed abruptly, stopped just as quickly as you started. “There’s no way in hell that’ll happen.”

She looked hurt, but you didn’t feel bad in the slightest. “I’m not proud of what I did,” She moved closer, you stepped back. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“I’ve already moved on, you should too.”

“Yeah sure to Angelique, like that’s going to last.” She rolled her eyes, “She’ll get bored of you eventually and then you’ll see that I’m the only one who could love you.”

You didn’t try to suppress the scoff, “Right, because emotional manipulation equates love.”

She glared at you, “I’m trying to tell you I want you back and you’re being a bitch.”

You grinned, “Is it getting across that I don’t want you back?” You tried to go around her again and she gripped your wrist. You flinched.

“Your family got it into your head that I was terrible, didn’t they?” She hissed.

Julia had gone over it repeatedly, drilled it into your head what to do when Eileen came back. _Deescalate the situation,_ well that had gone out the window the minute she said she wanted you back. _Don’t agree to something just to please her,_ that was easy. _Don’t be alone with her,_ you hadn’t exactly planned to get stuck with her. You shrugged, “More like I started to see what they saw.”

She tightened her grip painfully, “This isn’t over between us you know.”

“I think it is.” Another voice replied.

You turned to see Angie standing there glaring at Eileen, a fire in her eyes, and for once you could believe that she was dangerous, that many of your ancestors had died from her wrath.

“Ms. Bouchard, a pleasure to see you.” Eileen said overly sweet. 

“I wish I could say the same,” Angie mocked.

Eileen suddenly pulled her hand away from your wrist like it had burned her, with the way that Angie was staring at her, you didn’t doubt that it probably had. Now that you were free you moved towards Angie, “I want to go home.” You said.

Angie wrapped her arm around you and left Eileen without a word. The two of you didn’t stop until you were standing next to her car under the streetlight. Then she pulled away, she looked you over, “Are you alright sweetheart?” She asked softly, almost soothingly. She hadn’t let go of you, still looking you over, lightly brushing over where Eileen had gripped your wrist.

“I’m fine.”

She met your eyes, the anger was gone, concern etched into her face, a small crease between her eyebrows that looked so adorable.

“I’m fine, I promise.” You repeated, “Can we just go home?”

She nodded.

\--------------

“Do you want me to take care of her?” She asked once you were both in the car.

“I’d rather not resort to that just yet.”

She turned on the car, “I wouldn’t hurt her, just talk with her.”

“Threaten her you mean.”

She turned to look at you, tilted her head in half agreement. “Well it wouldn’t look very good for my girlfriend to be found screwing the secretary, would it?” It was supposed to be a tease, but there was that bit of simmering anger, bit of possessiveness in her voice that you wouldn’t allow yourself to overthink. Because this, whatever it was, was an act.

You took her hand, she sighed, anger disappearing just as quickly as it appeared. She tried again softer, “Would you go back to her if you had the option?”

“No, there’s a reason I ended it.”

She nodded, let go of your hand and focused back on the dash of the car. “Take it from someone who has been on both sides of this, you don’t deserve that kind of treatment.”

You knew some parts of what had happened between Angie and Barnabas, knew enough to know they had both done shitty things. But you had never heard her mention it.

The drive was quiet.

“It’s late, you should stay the night.” You said when she parked in the driveway. She was quiet, still more bothered by seeing Eileen than you were. You hoped if you invited her in, talked with her a bit more she’d ease up. “Please.”

She stared at you for a moment before taking the keys from the ignition, she followed behind you. The house was quiet, so you snuck in. Taking her hand, because you knew if anyone was to poke their head out and see the two of you holding hands it would look better for you two than if you had a respectable distance between the two of you. Also, that nothing quite relaxed Angie like physical affection.

Halfway to your bedroom you realized that she knew her way around the house as she walked alongside you and you were no longer leading. 

The door closed behind you and you thanked God that your room wasn’t messy. It was nowhere near as spacious as Angie’s, but it was a decent size. You stood and watched as she flitted towards your stuff, looking over pictures and picking up books you left out and pieces of your childhood; you were content to let her scrutinize over your things. Just as you had done when going into her room the first time.

She laughed and turned to show you the picture she was holding, and you groaned. Then attempted to snatch it away. “I don’t need a reminder of my awkward phase.” You muttered.

She successfully evaded you, “It wasn’t awkward, you were cute.”

You snorted and left her to continue looking at it, busying yourself with getting her a sleep shirt and some sweats since the house tended to be drafty despite the nice temperature outside. “Spoken like someone who has never had an awkward phase.”

You threw her the clothes blindly and grabbed a pair for you as well.

“You don’t know, I could have.”

You turned around to comment again, but instead you were met with the sight of Angelique undressed. You turned back around the comment suddenly the farthest thing from your mind. “You know you could change in the bathroom.” You said and tried not to think about the milky white skin and curves of your completely platonic friend.

She hummed in acknowledgement, “But then I wouldn’t get to tease you about how quiet you got.”

You rolled your eyes and decided to screw it and change too. The rustle of fabric stopped momentarily, and you turned to look at her over your shoulder, just enough for her to see you were smirking. “Now who’s the quiet one?”

She scoffed and threw her dress at your head. You laughed and finished changing, she was already in bed when you were done. Having taken the right side of the bed, she laid down, but propped herself up by her elbow.

“Did you enjoy the show?” You teased.

“Did you?” She taunted back.

You walked over to the connecting bathroom, flicking on the light. “Of course.” Your toothbrush was left on the bottom shelf of the medicine cabinet, you wet the brush and put toothpaste on it. The mechanical movements helped to ease you into asking the next question, “So are you okay?” Then you threw a glance over at her form on the bed.

“Fine. I should be asking you that question.”

You leaned against the door frame of the bathroom, “I’m okay. That wasn’t exactly unexpected, as terrible as it sounds; that was one of the better interactions.”

She looked away; eyebrows raised. Hesitating a moment, which was a lifetime because Angie never hesitated when she wanted to ask something. “You always talk about her like…” She sighed then set you with a look that you couldn’t decipher. “Did she ever lay a hand on you?”

_Oh._ You looked away, stopped brushing your teeth. Hesitated, before speaking around the toothbrush. “Twice, never anything extremely bad. It was just a slap each time.”

She sat up fully, her jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, not in anger at you. “Does your family know?”

You shrugged, “I think Liz suspects it’s happened, but she never outright asked.” You turned back into the bathroom, finished brushing your teeth. “Did Barnabas ever…”

“No.” She dismissed quickly, “What did you even see in her?”

You looked at her, she looked curious rather than judgmental. “I could ask you the same about Barnabas.” A flick of the bathroom light and the bedroom was thrown into darkness, you walked careful to avoid any obstacles. Talked because you figured it was safer when she couldn’t read your expressions as easily. “In all honesty though, I was so desperate for love and affection. So, when she offered it and I knew it wouldn’t end well for me, I really didn’t care at that point.” It was the truth, more honesty than you had expected to give. But it seemed like this was one of the things that you both could be transparent about. 

She watched as you pulled away the sheets and comforter, “I was young and naive when I fell for Barnabas,” She swallowed thickly, “I thought that to be desired was the epitome of love. And to be loved by someone so powerful and above myself—it was a power trip.”

You climbed into bed. “Do you still?”

“I don’t love him.” Her hand reached to pull you closer, but not quite as demanding. You simply understood the gesture and scooted closer till you were shoulder-to-shoulder. “What about you?”

“No.” You stared up at the ceiling of your room.

“Good.”

You weren’t sure how to process her one-word reply, it sounded almost protective, but it was late and you didn’t want to overthink because of one word.

She stretched out beside you, yawning as she said. “I’ll have to deal with your family tomorrow.” She said it like she was disappointed, which you knew was just for show and that she enjoyed reminding them of your relationship at every opportunity.

“Do we need to prepare anything in advance?” 

“We might as well make it seem like we had a good night.”

That meant leaving hickeys on her so that in the morning you could both pretend you had fucked. You weren’t going to ask her about who was supposed to start, because you knew she would tease you endlessly about it. Instead you rolled over and straddled her, she gasped barely, you felt her inhale under you. 

_Don’t linger, don’t linger._ You leaned down, kissed her neck—oh no that was her cheek, you chuckled and nipped at her jaw instead. Her hands wound into your hair pulled you tighter against her.

Her breathing picked up, you felt her pulse quicken under your lips and you sucked a bruise there. She moaned; your stomach clenched at the sound. You lavished a little more attention there that was definitely a weak spot of Angie’s and then moved to the other side of her neck leaving a hickey there as well. 

She pulled you to her mouth, you stopped just an inch or two above. Breath ragged, slowly her hands unwound from your hair. You shifted to lay beside her, tried to catch your breath and ignore the throbbing between your legs.

There was a shift of fabric and suddenly Angie was straddling you. She kissed you so hard your teeth hurt. Just when you had adjusted to that she leaned a bit lower and sucked a bruise on your neck, then another and another. One of her hands teased the edge of your shirt, and the sliver of skin that was exposed. The other hand propped next to your head.

She left a painful enough bite that you gasped out, but the pain just added to the pleasure. 

Quickly she pulled away and looked almost apologetic, her hand which had been gripping your hips bruisingly lessened their grip. “Tell me if I go too far.” She said, voice quiet, but not the same as when she had asked about Eileen, or when she had teased you this evening. It was softer, gentle. It was laughable honestly, that she thought you knew what was too far when it came to her. Still you nodded.

She leaned down again slower this time, and it was obvious that she was waiting for you to object, but this felt much more real. Realer than the kissing in the car and realer than the make out session before, and god did you want it.

Her lips ghosted over yours, moving to trail across your jaw, and it wasn’t a kiss so much as a brush. When she finally kissed you again it was careful where the previous kiss had been punishing. She tasted like black coffee. Bitter and yet you didn’t mind the taste when it was Angie. When you almost forgot that she was kissing you to annoy your family, she pulled away. She moved back to her side of the bed and muttered, “That should convince them.”

You wished you had chickened out and asked her what she meant, and let her tease you about your naivety, kept up that reluctance no matter how fake it was for you. Because while you would never admit it, you liked Angie, liked her enough to want to kiss her. Wanted to ask about her day. It was a slight crush, something that could be easily put to rest and deflected. Angie could never know about it, she wouldn’t let you live it down, and you didn’t want her to use it against you.

Eventually you started to drift off, suddenly your body jerked like it was falling. Then you hit the ground with a thump, you glanced around trying to figure out how you fell out of bed only to realize you were sitting in that room.

Your ancestors were staring at you, no doubt about to lecture you on bringing her into their house again or sleeping next to her. Anything that you had done that wasn’t hateful towards Angie seemed to be criticized.

But tonight, you weren’t playing this game, “I’ve come to the conclusion that she’s not that terrible, sure some shit went down, but she’s slowly doing her best.”

They stayed quiet, too stunned to try to argue at the moment.

You continued, “I’m not saying she was in the right, but I am saying she’s not as evil as you all make her out to be.”

“She cursed our entire family tree, stole our family wealth, our business, our town.” The man in charge said.

You stared blankly, “We’d fuck it up if we still had the entire town, there’s a reason why we were cursed and it’s because when we had power—we abused it, repeatedly. Barnabas had influence and he used it to sleep with someone he practically owned.” 

“She was a maid.” He waved it off.

“Indentured servant.” You corrected, you had read up on the history of your family when you were younger, the interest was short-lasting, as soon as you realized all of the shitty things your family had done to get ahead you gave up. 

“He was young.” 

“So was she.” You clenched your jaw, “I’m not saying that she’s immediately forgiven for all of it, but I won’t take kindly to you all continuously referring to her as a whore. They both fucked up, but I don’t necessarily blame her for all of it.” If you were being completely honest, if you hadn't had your family to support you when breaking up with Eileen, you could see how you would have done what Angie did.

“Barnabas is family.” The man stated.

“Which is why I haven’t turned him into the police,” you stated flatly. You would debate them on this all night if you had to, but it seemed fate intervened.

\----------

Angie woke you up, she was sitting on your side of the bed, “Do you mind if I borrow some of your clothes to wear home?”

“Go ahead.” You murmured, still half-asleep. Then paused. Shot up to glare around the room, light was streaming through the window, your clock read nine twenty-three. “It’s morning.” You stated dumbly.

“That’s usually how time works, sweetheart.” You brushed off the comment, tried not to think about your dream.

She raided your closet as you got dressed, you went to brush your teeth and halfway through your bleary-eyed morning routine. You caught sight of the dark extremely obvious hickeys covering your neck and slightly down your chest, enough to give the idea there were more in private places, you came out of the bathroom.

“Holy shit Angie, I thought we were going to allude to the fact, not make it seem like you fucked me senseless.”

She grinned a wolfish smile, “You can always return the favor and add a few more to me.”

The remark shouldn’t have caught you off guard as much as it did, knowing that the kiss last night most likely meant nothing to her and something to you.

Instead you gave an exasperated sigh and went back to the bathroom.

Downstairs, some of your family was awake. David was watching Saturday morning cartoons and eating cereal. Roger was reading the newspaper with a cup of coffee. Elizabeth was looking over some paper or another, eating breakfast. 

You walked into the kitchen, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. Angie did the same. 

“Good of you to finally join us.” Elizabeth said then looked up, she recovered from the sudden surprise and returned to her newspaper.

“Sorry, long night.” You said as straight-faced as possible. No one commented on it and you were thankful for the fact.

Angie nodded towards the living room, and you both left to join David watching cartoons. Angie sat next to you unbothered, watched Scooby-Doo as if this was a normal occurrence with you. 

It was odd, so out of place you weren’t sure how to navigate it. Eileen had never wanted to be around your family, none of your past girlfriends wanted to spend time with your family longer than necessary. While you couldn’t really blame them for it. It left you at a loss now, because Angie didn’t seem bothered, if anything she seemed to enjoy it to a certain degree.

While you sat there slowly trying to wrap your head around it, the episode ended, she finished her coffee. “I should go,” she said, which jump started your mind.

You stood, “I’ll walk you out.” 

The two of you walked to her car, she stopped at the driver’s door.

"Thanks for letting me stay the night," she stepped closer to you.

"It was fun, ignoring certain parts."

She smiled, leaned in and kissed you, lingering against your lips for a second longer than you expected. She pulled away only a few inches, eyes dropping to your lips, then lower. Her thumb traced down your throat, "You might want to hide those before going out today," She smiled, pressing lightly onto one of the bruises. 

You playfully slapped at her hand, "You might want to take your own advice." She didn’t have as many, but they were still prominent.

"And hide your hard work? Sweetheart, I would never." 

You rolled your eyes, smiled, "Drive safe."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm trying to update this weekly, and technically it is the next day, but I also haven't fallen asleep yet so I'm still on schedule. I've also decided to aim for the well-written yet campy gay horror film that I wish existed.

After the realization that you had started to develop this semi-crush on Angie you threw yourself into work, it seemed the smartest solution, she couldn’t inadvertently find a way to spend time with you if you were busy.

It was nearly a week since the realization of your crush. Your shift had finished, and you were exhausted. Your back hurt, your feet hurt, and you were pretty sure you still smelled like smoke. You stifled a yawn, trying to ignore the fact that it was pushing midnight. There had been a wildfire and another body found. You couldn't tell if the guilt weighing on you was because of their death, or because you didn't feel guilty for their death. You had thought yourself into a corner, checked your dash and realized you were low on gas. 

Most of Collinsport was asleep, most places shut down already, no one exactly wanted to go out late on a Monday night. Most of the lights were left on, but the town itself was empty. You bought a bag of chips and a bottle of water, while the gas station attendant was filling up your car. You glanced towards the water, watched as the waves caught the lights and reflected them. Slowly your eyes traveled across to the warehouse and noticed Angie's car still parked there.

It wasn’t your place to go check on her, it wasn’t your problem. You noticed the station wagon parked across, at the 7-11, and Willie singing along to some song. You paid quickly, drove over and parked. Barnabas stormed out of the doors right as you turned the car off, instinctively you ducked, not that he noticed you in his dramatic storming off to the station wagon.

Willie drove off and you slowly got out of the car, made your way to Angie’s office, dread filling you. _He wouldn’t hurt her, she’d kill him...right?_ You opened the door forgetting to knock. 

“Barnabas, I swear to god I’ll-” She stopped when she saw it was you, turned back to pour herself more scotch. “What are you doing here?”

You swallowed, “I-I saw him leave and I just wanted to…” _I wanted to make sure you were okay._ “Are you okay?”

She gave a short humorless chuckle, “Fine, sweetheart.”

You noticed the bottle of wine already emptied and wondered if they had drank it together, then pushed down the hurt. It wasn’t your place. _Nothing more than our last name and connection to Barnabas,_ rang through your head, as much as you would hate to admit it. He was probably right. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She turned to you, indifferent, “It was nothing, we just discussed business.”

A blatant lie, but you weren’t going to ask her again. Part of you wanted to leave, let Angie deal with whatever it was she wasn’t going to tell you, but you also knew you weren’t going to leave her like this. Screw your bleeding heart.

Angie sat on her futon and patted the place next to her. You hesitated, obliged and sat next to her, not too close, but not far enough that it could be taken as a slight. Your entire body was on edge.

“You said that you didn’t have an opinion on me when we first talked. Have you decided on one yet?”

She had managed to ask the one thing you had been successfully ignoring for the past week. “You’re drunk,” you muttered.

“Answer me.” She said, more as a command than a plea, with more lucidity than you expected.

You looked away, trying to find the right words. “Despite the circumstances that led to our arrangement and trust me I’ve tried to hate you but...I do care about you.” 

Angie leaned closer, watched your mouth in a way that even sober she wouldn’t have done. “Even if you don’t like me as a person?”

You leaned back against the futon, relaxed for the first time that day. “It’s hard to reconcile your past actions with how you are now. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not trying.”

She leaned even closer.

You knew that look and the way that she parted her lips when looking at yours, you asked. “Have you eaten dinner?”

Her eyes snapped up to meet yours, “No.” 

“I haven’t either,” You stood, “I was planning on substituting dinner for a bag of chips, but we can stop and grab something else instead.” 

She stood, swayed slightly, you helped her with her heels, holding them in your hand as you offered your other arm to steady her. It was a quiet ordeal to make it to your car. 

You turned on the car, the radio turned on with it to the tune of some love song, Angie changed it with a quick glare at the radio. The dial turned by itself. You sat there amazed at something so inconsequential. 

The next song was about breaking up, she glared and again the dial turned by itself. Changed stations. 

“Is there any song playing that isn’t about love?” She seethed.

“I thought you liked love.” 

“I can’t stand it. It’s a useless addictive feeling that has never helped me-” The next song barely began, but you already recognized it as a love song, you caught Angie’s hand as it made its way to the dial. She cut herself off. “Do you think I’m unlovable?”

You let go of her instinctively. “You’re deserving of love and respect in any and all relationships.” You said, focusing on the car rather than her.

“But you didn’t really answer my question, do you think I’m unlovable?”

You exhaled slowly, turning to look at her. She was watching you intently, so closely you might’ve thought she was going to kiss you. “No.” You looked away, fingers anxiously brushing against the keys, they jingled. “You’re smart, beautiful, funny, anyone would be lucky to have you.” 

“I don’t want anyone.” She said as if it was obvious, as if you should know who she had in mind.

She might have lied slightly when she said she wasn't in love with Barnabas anymore, if tonight was anything to go by, you thought bitterly. 

“I suppose it does matter if the other person wants to be with you.” You muttered, risked a glance at her.

She looked more hurt than you were prepared for, it shouldn’t have been such a surprise to her that Barnabas didn’t return her feelings, it was common knowledge. You felt as if you had missed something important in this conversation. She left the radio on even though it was a love song playing.

The drive was relatively quiet, you pulled into the drive thru of McDonald’s. The food came quickly considering the time and the fact that you were the only customers there. You drove home, finishing your food quickly enough. The headlights illuminated the road in front of you and you drove, following the curves and trying to ignore the nagging sensation that you had messed something up.

Eventually you unlocked her door, fixed her a glass of water while she changed into pajamas. She was sitting at the foot of her bed when you walked in, you handed her the glass, noticed she hadn’t taken off her makeup. 

“There’s makeup remover in the bathroom, right?”

“Second drawer on the left.”

When you came out with the remover she was still sitting there, you kneeled in front of her, set the makeup wipes next to her. She watched you as you cupped her face with one hand and started to wipe away the makeup with the other. She didn’t close her eyes, when you glanced up at her she was staring at you, a calculating but not cold look in her eyes. 

You offered a half-smile, more sheepish than anything. Focusing back on wiping away the smudges of lipstick that seemed determined to stay. When it was done you stood up, collected the makeup wipes. 

“You’re staying over tonight.” She said, more of a command than a question.

“Sure, I could sleep on the couch if you-”

“No.”

You nodded, “Alright.” You went back to the bathroom, put away the makeup wipes, and changed into pajamas. 

She was already in bed when you returned, the covers pulled up to her shoulders, you climbed onto your side of the bed. 

“Turn over,” she muttered.

You did, facing away from her, when you felt her move closer, her arm wrapped around your waist, breath against your neck. It was comfortable, you felt safer than you wanted to admit, you spoke, “I didn’t mean to hurt you with that comment.” 

“It doesn’t matter, you were at least honest with me.” She said, almost resigned.

_You deserve better than Barnabas,_ you wanted to say. But you didn't think she wanted to hear that right now, not like this. Your hand found hers, interlocked your fingers with hers.

She never said anything, and neither did you. Eventually you fell asleep.

It was night, and you were standing in front of Collinswood, the driveway gone, the mansion looked new for once. A couple walked by, arm in arm, talking quietly to each other. It was too dark to see their faces, but you assumed they were smiling. A stone piece above them crumbled, you watched as it fell, and though you screamed at them, they didn’t hear.

Before you could process it, you were standing along the cliffs, Victoria stood at the edge, Barnabas rushed to her. She fell. He jumped after her. You didn’t look down to watch.

Two men argued outside a pub, you recognized one of the men, Edward. He demanded a duel from the other. The scene flashed forward, you watched as Edward pulled his gun out quicker than the other man, but his gun didn’t fire. The other gun did. Edward collapsed.

Suddenly you were standing in the tearoom again. Swaying, face to face with your ancestors once again. Damn whatever spinning magic trick they kept pulling on you to shift the room, because that made you nauseous.

“This is the witch’s curse.” You finally recognized the man, Barnabas’ father, and the woman on his arm, Barnabas’ mother. “Misfortune will always find a way into our lives, a sudden sickness, a lover who turns out too good to be true, a life cut too short. All of it leads back to the curse.”

“I’m sorry that happened to all of you.” Some nodded, like this was finally the breakthrough they were hoping for. “But that’s in the past, what happened between all of you and Angie isn’t my problem.” 

_“Angie?”_ He held up his hand, stopping himself. “Forgive me this isn’t our biggest problem right now. I know we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, per se, but I hope you understand the severity-” 

“No, no, no. I think this is our biggest problem.” One of the women spoke up, dressed in what you thought was Victorian period clothes. “We should be talking about the fact that Y/N is friends with that whore.” 

Someone else spoke up, “Or Y/N’s past lover-” 

One of the men spoke up, “I thought we were going to discuss her unseemly lust for the same-” 

Another man stepped towards him, “Before you finish that thought Clark, let me remind you that I have-” Suddenly the entire room erupted into arguments, you watched. With the sudden realization that your family had always been stupid. Followed closely with the realization that it was no surprise then, that they had squandered years of your life tormenting you instead of using it. 

You then took a seat in the armchair and watched as the argument continued to unfold. This was only a handful of your family, which meant in the long run it seemed Angie had only killed the stupid asshole members of the family. But it also meant that this would be your reality for the rest of your nights, until you broke the curse or died. 

Death didn’t seem as promising currently, “Okay! Fine! I’ll break the curse!” Everyone quieted down, you sighed. “What do I need to do?” 

There was now muffled whispering, before Barnabas’ father stepped forward. “There’s been multiple discussions, but your best option is to kill her.” 

“Next option.” 

“Hear us-” 

“Next. Option.” 

He sighed, “There is none, we’ve only ever agreed that killing her would prevent her from cursing us.” 

“Well discuss it more then! I’m not killing anyone.” _Especially not Angie._

“Very well, but I hope you come to the realization that this is in the best interest of the family. This curse is still in motion, it’s still rotting the Collins name from the inside out.” 

You woke up, trying to keep as still as possible as your mind repeated all that had just transpired. You weren’t going to kill her; you wouldn’t dare hurt her. The two of you were still laying how you had been the night before, her arm secured tightly around you. For a moment you allowed yourself to relax into the embrace, wishing that you could wake up like this every morning.

  
That thought was quickly followed by the realization that this crush wasn’t something fleeting. Definitely not something easily deflected. Angie wouldn’t be afraid to call you out if you started to avoid her more, she would know something was wrong. But if you weren’t careful this affection would tip dangerously close to love. And you wouldn’t risk that, couldn’t risk that.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there, trying to talk yourself out of the feeling, like your heart would listen to logic. When you glanced back at the window there was light barely peeking through. Carefully you untangled yourself from Angie, she shifted but stayed asleep. 

You needed out, you felt suddenly too hot, and too anxious. Both from the nightmare, and the feelings you wished could be pushed to the side. You slipped out of bed, slipped back into your clothes from last night. Angie was still asleep when you left the room. Your stomach was in knots from everything, you didn’t bother to make breakfast.

Instead you headed out through the front door. Took a deep breath of fresh air, it was cool, but you were almost certain it would be hot soon enough.

You started to jog down the driveway, more of a healthy coping mechanism than anxious pacing. Jeans weren’t the best thing to run in, but you managed. Following the curve of the road, as you ran along the shoulder. Every so often you would speed up, your lungs burned, but you kept pushing yourself. God what had you done? 

Eventually you tired yourself out, stopping to let your breathing even out. When you glanced around you realized you had run farther than expected, then turned back and walked back towards the house.

The run hadn’t solved anything besides lessening your anxiety and the fact that now you were sweaty. This could be manageable, you reasoned, you could get as many dates out of the way as possible and then try your best to avoid her. Once the deal was over you could claim the breakup was the reason for avoiding her, you doubted your family would push farther if you said that, you doubted Angie would want you around once this was all over. You only had around a month left until this was all over, you could manage. 

Angie was awake when you walked in. She was making breakfast, all soft edges this morning, hair mussed, still in pajamas, there was a light dusting of flour on her shirt. She flipped a pancake, her radio playing some song about love. She offered a tired half smile that sent your heart galloping. “You weren’t in bed.” 

This was a new kind of pain, “I went for a run.”

“At six in the morning?”

You walked around the island, getting yourself a glass of water. “I needed fresh air.” She gave you a side eye glance that told you she didn’t believe you, but simply hummed to the song. “You’re awfully happy for someone who should have a raging hangover.” You finally said more than five words.

“Magic, sweetheart.” She said as if it was obvious, then set you with a look. “Do I have to ask what made you wake up so early?”

You leaned against the counter, she faced you, leaned against the island counter. “It was just a nightmare.”

“What kind?”

“I rather not talk about it.”

She tilted her head, pressed on anyways, “They’re useful sometimes, if you know how to decipher them.” She said with a teasing smile.

“Would you rather talk about what happened last night, and whatever Barnabas said that sent you spiraling?” A small part of you regretted bringing up Barnabas, but if she found out about what your dreams consisted of, you’d be screwed. 

Her smile dropped instantly, she turned back to the stove. “It was just business.”

A blatant lie, if you had ever heard one. “Right.” 

“Barnabas just knows how to get under my skin.” She muttered, then turned back to you. “Thank you for last night.”

“It was nothing, you’ve done it for me before I was just returning the favor.”

For what it was worth, you two were amazing at ignoring things you didn’t want to discuss, she never asked about the nightmare, you never brought up Barnabas. Instead you two talked about what you planned to do for the day, talked about going for a trip to the beach one day. With breakfast finished Angie went to get ready, while you cleared the plates. There had to be some way to bring up the curses. Someway to bring up maybe not cursing the rest of your family, or something useful about breaking the curse that didn’t involve hurting her.

You spent the rest of the morning thinking of some subtle way to ask, even as you drove her back to Angel Bay for work, you were still wondering. Finally, you parked and turned towards Angie. “Have a good day,” you pressed a kiss to her cheek, not questioning the habit you had started to develop until after you pulled away. 

She smiled, gripped your chin and kissed you quick and chaste on the lips. Pulling away only a few inches to hum, “You too.”

She slid out of the car, started to walk towards the warehouse, she glanced back, and you offered this stupid, awkward, half-wave. You blamed the kiss for your instinctive need to wave at her.

For all your foolishness, she laughed, returned the small wave, though less awkward and turned back. You let your head fall back against the seat with a soft thud, wondering why it had to be Angie of all people.

\---------- days later ------

You arrived home, to find a box left with a note in Angie’s handwriting. _Another gift sweetheart. All I ask is that you wear it for me, at least once._ You brought it to your room, ignoring your siblings and their side-eye glances. Inside was the dress Angie had made you try on at the shop, you laughed abruptly. Then put it back in the box and grabbed your keys. 

You walked into her office with a purpose, jaw set, a meeting just finished as businessmen filed out of her office. Angie smirked when she saw you, you waited till the last man closed the door behind him, then spoke. “I got your gift.”

Angie smiled, “Do you like it?” She asked hopeful, and the sarcastic remark you had died.

“...I appreciate it, but I thought we agreed no more gifts.”

She stood up, walked around her desk before sitting on the edge of it. “We never agreed to that, I told you that you didn’t owe me, and that was all we discussed.”

“Then I’m telling you now, no more gifts. People might get the wrong idea of our relationship.”

She grinned, “I wouldn’t mind having that relationship with you.” 

You narrowed your eyes at her, willing to push her just to see how far she’d play along. “So, if I wanted a yacht?”

“Consider it done,” She leaned slightly towards you, eyes lighting up like they did when something was going her way. Her hand was already moving towards the phone.

“I was kidding,” you crossed your arms.

“I wasn’t. It’s a small price to pay for you, sweetheart.” She smirked, “But I guess I’ll have to settle for giving you this.” Her hand moved towards a velvet box that matched her lipstick, not that you paid attention to Angie’s lipstick color, or her lips in general.

She handed it to you, it was jewelry, you knew that much from the box alone. “Angie,” you warned.

“Would you just open it and let me explain?”

You did. It was a necklace, a silver teardrop that held what looked like a ruby around it. Beautiful and undoubtedly expensive. “I enchanted it to keep you safe.”

“From what?” You glanced up at her, she licked her lips, glanced between you and the necklace, there was this almost nervous edge to her.

“Things that go bump in the night,” she stood, moved closer to you, carefully she took the necklace out of the box.

You turned around, let the necklace come down. Angie’s breath fanned across your neck, “Does it protect me from you?” It came out of your mouth before you could truly consider it, you regretted it instantly. 

“Are you afraid of me?” She teased, there were the barest touches against the nape of your neck as she clasped it.

“Should I be?”

“I gave you this didn’t I,” She clasped it finally and you turned.

The first thing you noticed was how close you two were, close enough that you could see the flecks of gray in her eyes. “Why?”

“Are you always this suspicious of gifts?” She asked, exasperation starting to seep into her voice.

“When they’re from you, yes.” 

Her smile never wavered, “I take care of the people that I care about,” she said matter-of-factly, adjusting the pendant. “Do you like it?” The anxious edge appeared again.

“I love it.”

She seemed to relax, moving away first. “Good. Now onto business.”

“We have business? You didn’t know I was coming here until I walked in.”

“I knew if I sent the dress you would come.” She smirked, “I got a call from your friend at the Collinsport paper, she wants to do a piece on us, something about powerful women and their relationships.” She returned to her spot on the edge of her desk.

“And I’m guessing you want to do it?”

“It’s good publicity.”

“I think we have plenty.” She frowned slightly. “Besides even if we didn’t can’t you just use witchcraft or a spell on the town to make them like you more?”

“This is the 70’s, politics _is_ the witchcraft.” She hummed.

You considered it for a moment. “It’d be putting a spotlight on our relationship for the entire town to see, if we slip up-”

“We won’t.” She noticed your still hesitant expression, “And if anyone does notice, there are a few spells where they’ll suddenly forget what was bothering them.” 

Which wasn’t as comforting as it sounded, she seemed to know you were still on the fence and opened her arms. You moved closer till you were in arms reach, her hands brushed down your arms to rest at your elbows. She tried again softer, “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to. If we do go, then it’s a date.”

You could get the third date over with, and it’d mostly consist of talking with someone else, coincidentally about your relationship with Angie, but you were going to ignore that for now. “I’ll do it.”

Which is how you found yourself walking into Collinsport Tribune, you were directed to Lara’s office, she was just as you remembered. Nice, with a noticeable soft spot for you, you weren’t sure how much that had been influenced since you had last seen her.

Her cat walked around your legs, brushing against your calves and purring. You reached down to stroke the black cat. Then stood up and took the chair across from Lara. 

It went well enough; it was less an interview and more of a conversation. At least until the last question, “It’s no surprise that both you and Ms. Bouchard’s families have a long history of disliking each other. Did you find that hard to move past in the beginning?”

You reminded yourself that she was referring to the family business and the competition between the two, then forced yourself to relax. “It was odd in the beginning, but we’ve never let it come between us. If anything, I feel we understand each other better than most because of it.”

She smiled, turned off the tape recorder, “Thank you for agreeing to do this.”

“Of course,” you stood. 

Part of you was elated, Lara had asked to interview you separately so she could get both perspectives. Which meant you had technically finished your third date with Angie without ever seeing her. A larger part was disappointed by the fact that Angie wasn’t here, to flirt with you, or tease you with her answers. Which would’ve probably been half-truths that only you would get the meanings.

“Before you go, do you want to look over her answers?” Lara offered, picking up a manila folder.

“Angie’s?”

She offered a secretive smile, “You can read over them, just to double check there’s not anything you dislike.”

_Oh god what had Angie said?_ You took the folder from her, opened it to skim over the transcript of their interview. 

All of it was sweet, nothing terrible. Finally, you closed the folder, handed it back to her. “Do you usually let people read over your interviews?”

“Not usually, but I am allowed to have favorites.” She put the folder back, “Especially for ones who have helped me in the past.”

“It was nothing.” 

You left, thinking over how it might be useful to have Lara on your side when it eventually came to the breakup with Angie. Not that you planned to gossip about it, but if Angie pointed the blame on you, you could always return the favor. 

It hit you then standing in the parking lot that you and Angie would have to plan the breakup, with the amount of interest in your relationship in the town there would be inevitable rumors, but what would the story be? You pushed the thought away, a problem for a different time.

\------------------

You had called it; summer had barely started and already the town was under a heatwave advisory. The station wagon was unsurprisingly acting up again and so you let Liz borrow your car and attempted to fix hers.

Sweat dripped down your back, there was barely a breeze, just enough for you to notice, but not enough for you to feel cooler. The sound of a car pulling into the driveway pulled your attention momentarily away from changing the oil, till you brushed it off as Liz probably arriving home.

Heels came into view, gravel crunching underfoot. It was Angie, you didn’t know anyone else with that expensive of footwear. “Did you come to ask for help with your car too?” You asked, despite still under the car.

“Actually yes.”

You ungracefully shimmied out from under the car to stare at her. She smirked down at you, eyes traveling to your ratty tank top that had oil smears on it, then frowned slightly when she realized you weren’t wearing the necklace. “Really?” Your eyes widened, “That thing is practically brand-new the way you’ve maintained it.”

She gave a slight shrug, “Well apparently it’s still making this weird noise. Will you fix it?”

“I can try.” You sat up, then stood up. You shut the hood of the station wagon; she was still staring at you. “Anything else?”

“I wanted to see you.”

It had been a week since she gave you the necklace, days since you had been interviewed. “I’m here.” You wiped your hands with an already oil-stained rag, “I know I’m not exactly anything to look at currently.”

“Nonsense.”

You smiled, flustered and looked away. “I can look at your car right now, if you want.”

“You can come by tomorrow morning and fix it then.”

Odd request, but you didn’t bother to wonder what she was actually planning, it was a waste of energy. “Okay.”

You drove over the next morning, wanting to get it out of the way since it would only get hotter throughout the day. You wore a tank top that you didn’t care if it got oil stains on, and shorts you didn’t care about either, and if part of it was to make Angie stare at you more than usual, then it was nobody’s business except yours.

Her car was parked in her three-car garage. Garage doors already open, you knocked on her door. She opened it, she was wearing a white blouse tied in the front to show a bit of her stomach, and denim shorts. 

It seemed you both had the same idea.

She smirked; your face flushed when you realized how that looked. _I was just looking at your outfit_ , you wanted to defend. But you knew she’d just tease you more. “Do you want to show me what’s wrong with the car?” You said instead.

“Sure,” she walked past you, and you followed her to the garage. The car was beautiful, even under the hood.

You glanced over it, nothing glaringly obvious. “So, what’s wrong with it?”

She opened the driver door and started the car, it started. You closed the hood, walked around the car. The car was idling roughly, “Turn it off.” She did, you moved towards the hood again.

Lifting up the hood and looking, “When’s the last time you replaced the spark plugs?”

“I couldn’t tell you.” 

You nodded, “We’ll have to replace them all, but it looks like it’s just a spark plug misfire.”

She paused, before asking. “And will we need a mechanic for that?”

You laughed, “God no.” 

For once you were in your element around Angie, you had a purpose and a goal. The trip to the auto store was uneventful, you found the spark plugs, and politely declined the cashier when he offered to help you install them.

In less than an hour you were back in Angie’s garage, pulling out one of the spark plugs. Angie had disappeared back into the house for something. You placed the new spark plug in, one down. Five to go. 

The door to the house opened and Angie walked back out with two waters, she handed one to you. You gave a small smile, taking the water and focusing back on the car. “Thanks.”

She leaned against the workbench and took a sip; you were contemplating whether you needed the next spark plug which just so happened to be behind where Angie was leaning. You were definitely not focused on the delicate bob of her throat as she drank. 

She lowered her drink, smirking. You spoke first, “Could you pass me the next spark plug?” She reached over and took the old one from you and passed you the new one. 

You focused back on the car, ignition coil, ratchet, twist, lift. Repeat. You fell into a rhythm, despite the feeling of Angie’s eyes on you. So, you had a crush. So what? Angie didn't like you like that, she might pretend. She might want to fuck you, but there was an obvious difference between something akin to love and lust. “It’s hot.” You finally said, sighing as you took another drink. 

“It is a heatwave.” Angie answered back, with a small smile. Her eyes followed a bead of sweat down your chest, looking like she wanted to follow it with her tongue. You flushed. There was a huge difference between love and lust, but god you wished you could have both.

Instead you just smiled and finished twisting the last spark plug in, you closed the hood with a resounding thump. Angie stood up, “Is it finished?”

You gestured towards the driver’s seat, “If you’ll do the honors.”

She passed you her drink and slid into the seat, the car started, you both waited for it to lurch, or some other sign that it wasn’t running properly. 

When it didn’t, she turned off the car and got out, “Do you want lunch?”

“Sure.”

Which is how you found yourself relaxing at the edge of her pool, sitting next to her with your feet in the pool and eating lunch. 

“So, what was the real reason that you wanted me to come over?” You asked, setting the empty plate aside.

She glanced over, “You’ve been busy, and I knew you’d never turn down the opportunity to help me with something as inconsequential as this.”

It was true, but you also needed to be careful when it came to avoiding her, you didn’t want her to catch on. “You can just ask next time you want to see me; you don’t have to come up with excuses.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, you knew she would still make excuses instead of asking, “I noticed you’re not wearing the necklace.”

“I didn’t want it to get stuck while I was working on your car, it’s too nice to wear every day.”

“The point of it was to protect you every day.”

You smiled, “I’ll wear it more.”

The conversation splintered into silence, you tried to find the right words to ask. Spoke before you realized you were speaking. “I have to ask, and don’t judge me because of it, but did you ever actually put a curse on my family?”

She stretched, offered a melancholy smile, “When I was young and still so angry, I found the spell. I thought it was perfect and I didn’t consider the magnitude of it, or my own power.” She set her plate to the side, “Anger makes for a powerful tool.” She focused back on you, “Why did you want to know?”

You swallowed, shrugged, “I had always heard about it, but I had thought that it was just something that we made up so we could blame our own problems on someone else.”

She tilted her head, “Some of the problems might be, I suppose. Do you hate me because of it?”

“I don’t hate you, what happened was in the past.” You kicked your leg in the pool and watched the ripples, “It would be different if you chose to still curse and kill, but you’re almost...”

“Not evil?”

“I was gonna say reformed, but sure, not evil works too.”

She pushed you into the pool. 

The cold water was a shock to your system, but you pushed off the bottom. You surfaced, sputtered. “I take it back, you’re evil.” 

She laughed.

You pulled yourself up and sat down next to her. “Just for that you owe me an answer to my next question.”

“What’s that?”

_Here goes nothing._ “In witchcraft is there anything stronger than anger?”

She sighed, looked back at the pool, a slow smile spreading. “It’s a cliché, but love. Supposedly 

it’s the be-all, end-all.” 

It felt like something to go off of, you still weren’t sure how to use it though. “How romantic.”

She hummed in agreement, “It can be.” Then turned to you, “Speaking of romance, why is it that I’ve been the only one taking you on dates?”

“You always seem to have a certain place, or thing in mind.”

She tilted her head in agreement, “Well I wouldn’t mind being swept off my feet every once in a while.”

“That is the most unsubtle way of asking for a date.” You laughed, barely dodged her second attempt to push you into the pool.

“You’re too oblivious for anything less sweetheart.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Alright, our next date I get to plan it. It’ll be amazing and be prepared because I’ll romance your ass off.”

“That’s beautiful. I’m already swooning.” She deadpanned.

You sent her a mock scowl, before splashing her with water.

\---------

She convinced you to stay for dinner, not that it took very much convincing. But you knew that it would turn into her asking you to stay the night, and while today had been fun, you were serious about keeping away more often. 

Eventually she asked the inevitable question, “I think you should stay the night.” Not necessarily a question, but still what you were expecting. 

“Not this time,” you said, ignored the part of you that said you really should stay the night. 

She accepted it, walked you to the door, and kissed your cheek. 

You climbed into your car, turned on the headlights and left. Your mind replayed the kiss, and how you could’ve kissed her back. Thought of ways you could have made her smile more, thought of already being half asleep cuddled up next to Angie. And that’s when you knew you had fucked up.

You flicked off the headlights, darkness swallowed the driveway, you used the porch light and navigated your way towards the front door. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you walked up the steps, there was a whisper, much like the ones from your nightmares, you froze. _It was the wind, it was the wind, it was the wind._ It was the wind on this stuffy breezeless night.

You turned around to look out beyond the driveway, it was pitch black, and you might've had better luck staring into the abyss than trying to see out there tonight. Suddenly you were struck with the thought of what could be lurking at the edge of the light. Something evil and faceless that could move faster than you, it probably crawled on all fours and laughed some high-pitched scream. Just as suddenly as the thought came you quickly bolted to the door, threw it open and slammed it shut. You locked it and took off up the stairs, closing your door with equal force and locking it. 

You searched your bedroom high and low, checking even under the bed—for what you weren’t sure. In the back of your mind you knew it was to ease your nerves, prove that there was nothing really there and that you had scared yourself for no reason. That it was probably the engine simply settling.

Still you kept all the lights on in your room, you started the record player not too loud, but enough to drown out the white noise of the house and read a book until your eyes burned from lack of sleep. Finally, you gave up and pulled the covers up high, not bothering to turn off your lamp, and fell asleep. 

With the anxiety and fear running high it was no wonder your ancestors were waiting for you. They decided to switch it up it seemed, you stood in a mausoleum, ignoring the goosebumps that rose. You assumed the mausoleum was somehow related to the family, you vaguely recalled one being somewhere on the property. Either that or they really were going all out for these nightmares lately. Barnabas' parents were the only ones here with you.

“Just the two of you?” You asked finally.

“After the outburst of arguments from our previous meeting, we made the decision to make our interactions a more private affair.” Barnabas’ father stated.

It shouldn’t have made you delighted to know you were making this harder for them, and yet you barely suppressed a smile. 

He wasn’t in the mood for your sarcastic remarks tonight, because the next thing out of his mouth was, “You haven’t killed her.”

“I already explained I wasn’t going to.”

He sighed, “She’s cursed someone close to you, you have to kill her.” He said as if discussing the weather.

“Who?”

“It’s not an exact science, we simply sense these things. She has set something into motion that will kill you soon if you’re not careful.” He explained slowly, as if that would help it to sink in.

You scoffed, “She’s my friend, she wouldn’t do that.”

He looked at you pitifully, “She’s an amazing liar.”

Your face burned, “Is this some twisted way of telling me you still haven’t found another way to break the curse?”

Barnabas’ mother set a hand on his shoulder, he took a step back, and she approached you, “Yes, but it’s also to warn you of the dangers that are approaching. I believe in some way she does seem to care for you more than the rest of the Collins lineage. However, it’s obvious you care for her, which makes what you must do even harder. She trusts you enough to relax, which means you will have to kill her.”

“I’m not a murderer, maybe you should ask your son to do it for you.”

Her face fell, “I’ve paid the price for his mistake, we’ve all paid the price for his mistake, and we will continue to pay the price for his mistake unless you stop her.” A frown set, “I love him dearly, but it’s been nearly two hundred years of constant bickering in our family. We can’t control who sees us, or who ends up with us trapped in this semi-hell.”

“But if I die because of the curse, I end up haunting the next Collins to come along.”

She nodded, “I understand we’re not as kind as we could be, but you have to understand, our patience is wearing thin after so many centuries.”

It was your turn to nod, “I’m slowly working out a plan to break the curse, without violence. But while I’m trying to fix this, I do have one thing to ask.”

“Anything.”

“David has been having nightmares, you’re behind it aren’t you?”

She looked ashamed for a moment, glancing over to her husband who seemed equally ashamed. “We are not personally, but some of our relatives have managed to interact with him.”

“He’s terrified.” You stated flatly. “While I undo this, you’ll keep our family away from him, and leave him alone.”

“We can’t control who can see us, they appear, and we deal with them.”

“Then try to not scare him or intimidate him. I’ve seen what you all can do to be dramatic, use it to calm him down.” You glanced around the mausoleum, “If I hear so much of as a mention of him being scared-”

“He’ll be taken care of with the utmost attention.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes the argument part of the dream stemmed from that one part in Mulan where her ancestors all start arguing


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter, also thank you for all the comments, y'all have no idea how much it means to me! :')

True to your word, you started to plan the date, it needed to be something romantic, something that would make her flustered. Ideally something that would sweep her off her feet. The nightmare had put a damper on your plan, but you weren’t going to let it interfere with this. You had planned meticulously, even took notes of famous movies to make sure you did this right. You weren’t willing to let this go badly.

Part of you wondered, as you clasped the necklace around your neck, if it was cursed. Angie might’ve given it to you and not been entirely truthful as to just what it could do or what she planned to use it for. Still you left it on, because you did like the necklace, liked the implication that came with it. That she cared for you enough to give you something to protect you. 

You checked one last time in the mirror, pushed down the anxiety that had lingered in the back of your mind for the past few days. You adjusted the dress slightly, yes _that_ dress, begrudgingly you would admit you did look good in it, but it was more to fluster Angie than anything.

You walked to the car with the picnic basket, and flowers in hand, you tried to ignore the nervousness slowly building. Set the basket on the floor in the back, laid the flowers on the seat. There was a difference between simply showing up to a date, and actively making an effort. You sighed, before finally driving off.

It shouldn’t have been this stressful, it was a date with Angie, you had been on several in the past few weeks. And yet you stood on her doorstep holding the flowers a little too tightly. You knocked on the door, she opened it a minute later. 

“Here.” She was momentarily surprised by the flowers, or maybe because you shoved them towards her, regardless she smiled and took them. 

“Thank you.” 

You nodded, perfectly inept when it came to things like this, your face felt hot, and really it didn’t help with the way that Angie was looking at you. Soft smile and soft eyes, and you wondered when the last time someone tried to sweep her off her feet was.

She noticed at that moment what you were wearing, and the smile turned a bit more mischievous. Eyes lighting up in a way that you knew meant she was going to flirt with you. “Are you ready?” You asked, trying to circumvent that for now.

“Of course.” 

Once you were in the car it was easier to relax, you had been nervous about the flowers, you were still slightly anxious about where you were going and if she would like it. But you pushed that down for now. 

“Do you plan on telling me where we’re going?” Angie leaned against you; her hand rested against your thigh. 

“No, it’s a surprise.”

“Is it the beach?”

“No.”

“The movies?”

You side-eyed her, “That’s so impersonal.” 

“Well for a first date it is, but in already established relationships it’s nothing.” She commented, shifting, fingers brushing your inner thigh. The warmth of her hand passed through the fabric of the dress like it was nothing.

“Still no.”

The roads were twisting and winding, mostly to account for the hills and cliffs. It was a beautiful drive, but the lunch basket continued to slide on the floor of the car, you turned on the radio hoping Angie wouldn’t notice the sound and figure out where you were headed.

She switched stations until she found a song she liked, she turned to you. “It’s this song.”

“What about it?”

“This is the one you sang along to.”

She turned it up as Frank Sinatra sang about witchcraft, she spoke, “You thought the irony was hilarious and you couldn’t help but sing along.”

You laughed, "It's a fun song," you then defended.

"You aggressively head-banged to the instrumental parts."

"Are you wanting an encore?"

She reached over to turn it up, loud enough that you felt the vibrations. It was a challenge, and you weren't going to back down from it so easily.

You started to sing-along with it, and it became apparent it was a love song, you knew that already. But it was different because you were singing a love song sitting next to Angie, practically serenading her at this point. The lyrics applied too well, Angie read you too easily, and you were sure your feelings were glaringly obvious. Which meant you did the only thing possible and you decided it needed to be as stupid as possible.

You sang along with the words as loud as you could, hand hitting the steering wheel in time with the beat, aggressively head-banging to the instrumental part. Being as dramatic and foolish as you could.

It made her laugh, and if anything, that only pushed you to do it more, see how much you could make her laugh.

You finished with the last lyric, _'Cause there's no nicer witch than you,_ gave her a pointed look just to tease her. The split-second glance towards her sent your heart spiraling, she was grinning looking at you with something you didn’t know what to name. You glanced away just as quickly the instruments fading out as another song played. 

It felt like a punch to the gut, the realization that you were in love with Angie. Head over heels for this woman, you were fucked.

\---------

The rest of the drive was quiet, the sort of comfortable silence you had come to enjoy with Angie. You pulled off to a dirt road, the road was a semi-steep incline. “I think I know where you’re taking me,” Angie said.

There were plenty of trees and so closely condensed that Angie couldn’t confirm her suspicions even if she looked out the window and tried to. Which is partly why you had chosen it. At the top of the hill suddenly the road opened into a clearing. There were less trees up here, and you parked faced towards the outlook. 

It was still as breathtaking as you remembered. Overlooking the town and the bay, with the backdrop of more jagged hills, and trees. You turned off the car, got out and grabbed the basket from the back. A wicker basket with cloth napkins full of fruits and cheeses, and any food you thought she would consider romantic. 

Angie was out of the car and still staring at the view when you spoke, “I’m sure you’ve already been here before, but you mentioned liking to view the town…” You held the basket, a slow blush creeping up your neck. “well is it alright?”

She turned to look at you, then noticed the basket, smiled. “More than alright.”

Eventually you laid out a blanket on the hood of the car, sat on it and set the basket between you two, and ate. 

\--------

When you were both finished with the picnic you still sat there, semi-shaded by the trees, enjoying the breeze of cold air from this high. Angie spoke first, “How did you know about this place?”

“It’s a typical place that teenagers go to…” you trailed off, when she smirked over at you.

“Is that the reason that you brought me here then?” She asked, already leaning towards you, smirking.

“I thought you would enjoy the view.” 

Her hand settled on your thigh and squeezed. “I'm especially enjoying the view.”

Goosebumps rose, you wanted to open your legs a little further, tease her, see how far she’d go and how much you would let her. But your mind reminded your body of why it was a terrible idea; the nightmare, the fact that she still seemed so in love with Barnabas, that you were most likely nothing more than a pawn in her game of chess. Instead you offered a tight smile, took her hand off your thigh and held it. “Does that actually work on people?”

She gave a moment of pause, before she leaned closer, facing towards you. “I’ve never had to use it before, other people take the hint.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Lying back to rest on the windshield. “And what hint is that? Make eye contact across the room with practically anyone and they’ll follow you to the ends of the earth.”

“You’re not anyone.” She pulled her hand away from yours.

You threw your arm across your face and hid your eyes in the crook of your elbow, partly to shield from the sun peeking through the trees above. Mostly because Angie was still looking at you, eyes half-lidded, smirking. 

_You’re not anyone._ That was a lie, you were head over heels for her. But all her teasing and all of the innuendos weren’t real. They were real enough that you knew she wanted to sleep with you at least once, she wasn’t subtle in that regard. But you wanted the entire shebang, the love and anniversaries and lived happily ever after kind of shit. And Angie was the last person who would give you that. So, you muttered, “Yeah.”

Her hand brushed down your throat, paused there for a moment, then moved further down slightly. 

You lifted your arm just high enough to glare at her. More of a _what the hell are you doing_ , rather than anything resembling actual anger. 

She shot you a smile, picked up the pendant, “You’re wearing the necklace.”

The delight in her voice made you re-question if maybe there was a curse on the jewelry. It would make sense why she wanted you to wear it so often, “...I am.”

She grinned, dropped it against you, and turned back towards the view still grinning, and you stared slightly confused. 

Eventually you got up and put the picnic basket back in the car, Angie was still watching the view, she looked relaxed, content in the moment. You faltered, stood near the driver door, not wanting to move. She turned to look at you, and you realized you had been staring. 

She smiled, “Do you mind stopping in town? I need something from the store.”

You nodded, “Of course.”

\-------------

You pulled into the grocery store parking lot, followed Angie inside. She went to buy eggs, you held her hand and walked around. Eventually you caved and bought a chocolate bar, knowing it would melt as soon as you made it to the parking lot. 

The two of you stood in the checkout line, watched as your items were being scanned and just as Angie reached to pay, you handed the money to the cashier before she could.

She glanced at you, you weren’t going to look at her, just smiled politely at the cashier. The two of you walked out, and she spoke, “What happened to no gifts?”

“I’m allowed to buy you something at least once as payback.” You glanced over, smiled at her. “Buying eggs is just as romantic as buying jewelry, right?”

She rolled her eyes, smiling regardless. “It’s the thought that counts.”

This entire date was proof of that, you thought. Then realized this was the end of it, you’d drive Angie home, and this would be finished. Which meant the goodbye kiss.

You already planned it; a goodbye kiss that she didn’t have to initiate. The real question was it supposed to be short and sweet? Long and drawn out? Less was more when it came to romance, you supposed. 

When you neared the car, you walked to her side to open the door for her but paused. Leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth. Pulled away just as quickly. “So, have I swept you off your feet yet?” You teased, because it was easier to deflect with jokes than letting the feelings and actions hang in the air. 

She looked momentarily startled and you had worried you had done something wrong, before you could ask, she took your shoulders, pushed forward till your back hit the car. And kissed you. It was the kind of kiss that made your toes curl, made you hear metaphorical fireworks. She pulled away barely, let your foreheads touch, breaths mingling. “You don’t know half of the things you do to me.” She muttered, breathless.

The entire date paled in comparison to this moment, of course she had to outdo you even now. Still you smiled, tried to think of something romantic to say back and opened your mouth and-

A door closed behind you, you glanced to see a person trying not to stare at the two of you as they headed towards the grocery store. You realized sadly that it was for the benefit of the other person that she said it.

You swallowed, turned back to Angie who was still staring at you like you were the only ones in the parking lot. She was a better actress than you gave her credit for, or maybe you wanted to believe it was real.

She seemed to know the moment was gone, still her eyes dropped to your lips again before she sighed and pulled away. “I know none of this was exactly your forte, but I appreciate the effort.”

_Was that pity or pride?_ Regardless you nodded, your mouth still too dry to respond.

You opened the door for her, closed it behind her. Started the car and drove her home. Your heart beating out of your chest.

Finally, you pulled into her driveway, she climbed out and walked towards her door.

“Was this okay?” You asked, from the driver side window; simply wanting that verbal confirmation.

She turned back to you, smiled, “It was perfect.”

“Your goodbye kiss was a little more romantic than mine.” Maybe you were still slightly bitter that she had shown you up, and the fact that you had actually thought she cared.

She smirked, “It doesn’t really count until one of us leaves.”

She wanted you to try again, and the thought shouldn’t have made you feel so stupidly happy. You climbed out of the car, moved closer until you were in arms reach of her. She quirked her eyebrows, silent challenge. You pressed forward, caught her lips in a kiss.

And when you kissed her, you tried to replicate that firework feeling. That feeling when you held her hand, even if no one was looking. The feeling you felt when she treated you gently, like you were something worth protecting to her. The kiss was loving.

Her lips were soft, Angie was soft sometimes, though she would vehemently deny it. You caught her off guard when you licked at the seam of her lips, she parted her mouth in less than a second. And you smiled against her lips, because she was so _eager_.

You pulled away, and she tried to follow your mouth. Her eyes were still closed, and when she realized you weren’t going to kiss her again, she opened them.

It occurred to you that she might’ve been honest about not sleeping around during this ‘relationship,’ which put a new perspective on her attempts at seducing you. “Romantic enough?” You asked, voice breathless.

Her eyes were half lidded and she was smirking like the cat that got the canary. “I’m not sure, I might need another performance.” 

You scoffed, gently pushing her off you. But she didn’t let you fully push her away. She smiled, “Do you want to come inside?”

It was an innocent enough question, but you knew that meant you would owe her another kiss when you finally decided to leave. You suspected the real reason for the question, and you wouldn’t be able to separate the act of sleeping with Angie from your feelings for her.

“I’ve got to get home.” You breathed. 

She nodded slowly, smoothed over your dress and you resisted the urge to lean in and kiss her again. “Of course, you do.”

She leaned in for another kiss, and you already parted your lips, you leaned in. She dodged your lips at the very last moment, smirking triumphant, when your lust-addled brain took a second longer to realize it. “One day, you’re going to give in.” She hummed.

“I think it’s more likely that you’ll give up.” You sighed, started to pull away.

She smiled. “Sweetheart," she lifted your chin until you were looking her in the eyes, she grinned, and it was equal parts pride and warning. "You underestimate just what I'm willing to do to get what I want." 

Slightly threatening and extremely hot should’ve been a warning for anyone who encountered Angie, it must’ve shown on your face how turned on you were because her gaze darkened. 

Quickly you focused on looking mildly annoyed, rolled your eyes, kissed her cheek, and muttered a goodbye, before leaving. When in doubt it was always a safe bet to brush her flirting as her teasing, especially when it got a little too close, and when you got too close to agreeing.

The drive home consisted of you trying to push down the middle-school feelings butterflies and all. You tried not to focus on the seducing side of the date, because that meant confronting the new suspicion that she only wanted you simply because you were the closest available option. You refused to think about the larger problem where you were obviously in love with the woman who your ancestors wanted you to kill, because that was a problem for a different day.

Inside Collinswood the television was blaring, Carolyn laying on the couch she glanced up disinterestedly. “One of your coworkers keeps calling, wouldn’t tell me why, just that it was important you call him.”

As if planned, the phone rang. You gestured towards the television, Carolyn begrudgingly turned it down as you picked up the phone, “Hello?”

“Y/N? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day.” A familiar voice crackled through.

“Warren?”

“Yeah.” There was some noise on the other line before he spoke again. “Hey, listen, there’s been another body found.”

“Who is it this time?”

“An old lady.”

You paused.

“Are you still there?” He asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Did she fit in with the other victims?” That caught Carolyn’s attention enough for her to sit up from the couch and glance over at you. You covered the receiver, mouthed _Barnabas_. Instantly she lost interest and turned back to the television.

“No, not really.” 

“But everyone is sure that it’s the serial killer?”

“Blood drained, kinda messy, I’m willing to bet money it is.”

The two of you made small talk for a few more minutes before you made an excuse about needing to go. He accepted the excuse and you hung up, already planning what to say to Barnabas when he woke up. 

\---------------

Barnabas was awake in the later evening, which is to say he was awake very early for his morning. You cornered him, not exactly subtle but at this point you weren’t trying to be.

“What did the old lady do?”

“I beg your pardon?”

You sat down, “We found the old lady you fed off of, and I want to know what she did that made you kill her.”

“I never fed off of anyone who could be considered elderly, I’ve remained true to our deal of immoral people only.”

Still you weren’t so easily convinced that he wasn’t just lying. After all you had seen firsthand what Barnabas could do when he was hungry. Regardless you said, “Okay.” And left it at that. Halfway out the door before you caught yourself. He had been avoiding you since you had seen him storming out of Angel Bay, not that he had seen you. “What did you and Angie talk about when you stormed out of Angel Bay?”

He looked at you, “You saw that?”

“The dramatic brooding? Yeah.”

He sighed, “I’m not at liberty to say. However, I would like to apologize for my behavior regarding the two of you, Elizabeth informed me of my rather outdated views, and I’d like to apologize.”

You nodded, not exactly what you were hoping for, but you would take what you could at this point.

He winced as if the next words made him sick to his stomach, “And I may have been quick to misjudge Angelique’s motives, and her feelings towards you. I will attempt to the best of my abilities, to be supportive of your relationship, from this point forward.” He gave a tight-lipped smile, and you could tell he was honestly trying. But the heartfelt moment was undercut by a more worrying thought.

The discussion had been about your relationship, or at least something about you, Barnabas wouldn’t have said this without some type of reasoning behind it. “What did you two talk about?”

“Business,” he replied.

You wanted to scream, because whatever they had spoken of was at least semi-about you, you and Angie. But neither of them would tell you, and it probably wasn’t as big of deal as you made it out to be. And yet, Barnabas was trying to be supportive of Angie and you, for whatever reason which was as suspicious as it sounded. “Right.”

With that in mind you went to search for the only person who could decipher Barnabas’ odd tendencies and hopefully keep an eye on him. Julia was apt to stay awake most nights on her drinking binges, you found her in the study. Halfway through a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and skimming through a book on human anatomy.

Under normal circumstances you would leave her to her devices, but that really wasn’t an option at this point. “Julia, I have something to discuss with you.”

She glanced up, closed the book and tossed it disinterestedly away, then gestured using the bottle of whiskey to the couch across from her, “I already know what you want to ask me.”

You took a seat, “You do?”

“You want to know if Angelique is simply using you to get to Barnabas.”

“I-” That wasn’t what you wanted to discuss, probably the least of your problems currently if you were honest. But it seemed to be the thing everyone was most focused on currently.

She continued, “While I can’t analyze her as well as if she was in the room, I’d say that I don’t believe your relationship with her is that cut and dry, she’s infinitely complex. From what Barnabas has told me during our sessions, I believe it was more of an obsession, coupled with a need to be better than him.” She lifted the bottle and took three frankly massive gulps, “Which doesn’t answer the question on whether or not there’s still that obsession.”

“We don’t-”

She held up her hand, “Let me finish.”

You stopped. 

“Thank you.” She adjusted on the couch, “Now I’d say there’s definitely some lingering hate, fear, whatever negative emotion you want to associate. You might be used for a revenge scheme, but if her motive was to get him back, then let’s be honest there are better ways to go about it. No offense.” She paused, took a breath and considered her next statement carefully.

At this point you were going to wait until she finished her observation, before saying what you had to. “She seems to be genuine with at least some of her feelings, she doesn’t seem the type to stand much less associate with people she deems not good enough.”

“Thank you, I think?”

“All in all, I’d say that there might be some manipulation on her part, but she’s too genuine with most of this dating stuff to not like you at least to a certain degree.”

“But who’s to say that she likes me more than she likes feeling superior to Barnabas.” You commented.

She pointed at you, “Exactly.”

You nodded, “Well, thank you for the insight into my love life, but I came to ask that you keep an eye on Barnabas. There’ll no doubt be another town council meeting called because he killed an old lady just recently.”

“He hasn’t.”

You stopped.

“I’ve been keeping track of his feedings, testing blood supplements, I’ve even been trying different types of blood to see how well he takes them. The last person he fed off was weeks ago.”

_Weeks ago._ You ignored the disbelief, continued anyways, “A woman was found this morning blood drained, in the exact same way everyone’s been killed.”

“It wasn’t him; I was with him almost the entire night trying to perfect a more humane food source.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.” 

Not a day later a town council meeting was called to order, you pushed down the nausea that was brought on by the knowledge that there was a copycat killer in Collinsport, or another vampire. You left for the meeting and tried to ignore the fact that there was blood on your hands.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was so hard to write, mostly because I got stuck on one scene and also because I rewrote it like four times before I was happy with it rip

On the way to the meeting you stopped by the grocery store and stood in front of the garlic, looking over each minced jar and clove carefully. Before finally deciding to buy the most potent jar you could find, then buying three cloves as well. Checking out of the store you were thankful for the disinterested teenager managing the register. You blamed paranoia and reasoned you could make spaghetti soon if nothing else. 

Anxiety turned to exhaustion. By the time you arrived at the town council meeting you were ready to curl up into bed. You walked in, already finished with the council meeting though it had yet to start. It would be boring and useless, just a bunch of people arguing their own opinions and getting no closer to an actual solution. Not that you were bitter or anything.

Angie walked up as soon as you made your way through the door, and no doubt for the drama of it all kissed you. She pulled away and glanced at your lips, smirked. You knew there was a visible lipstick mark. You considered wiping it away but you knew this was her way of staking claim on you, and if you did wipe it away she would just do it again.

She looped her arm through yours, “Thank god you’re here. I swear if I have to listen to Mr. Vandermeer talk one more time, I’m liable to lose it.”

You let yourself be pulled along through the crowds of people, Angie parting them easily. There were more people than usual, even more than last time. Didn’t take much to guess why, between Lara’s piece on your relationship and the newest victim it wasn’t surprising. 

Angie wasn’t in the mood to socialize with anyone it seemed, keeping you near her as she walked to the chairs. You noticed then that the nameplate had changed, what previously said William Vandermeer next to you, now said, Angelique Bouchard. “The seats are different.” You stated dumbly, sitting down.

“I suggested a slight change.” She smiled, took her seat next to you.

“I didn’t know we could do that.”

She tilted her head, talked low enough for only you to hear. “Under normal circumstances we can’t, but I convinced them to make an exception for us.”

You nodded, under normal circumstances you would’ve taken this opportunity to tease her, but since the realization your mind was more or less in a haze. 

"So are you going to tell me what's bothering you?" She said not looking at you, rather looking at the people around you. She said it so casually for a moment you didn't think she was talking to you. But when you didn't answer her she looked at you expectantly.

"Nothing."

She quirked her eyebrows up, eyes traveling to your interlocked hands. You let go of her hand abruptly, purposely putting your hands on the table. "My hands were cold."

She hummed, "Sure they were, sweetheart." She took your hand and pulled it into her lap, idly playing with your fingers. "You didn't answer my question though."

"I answered it, you just didn't like my answer."

"Because lying isn't an actual answer."

There was a pause on your part, where you considered the options. On one hand you could vehemently deny it or brush it off until she let it go, which only had a small chance of working if she dug her heels in. Or you could be honest. You were still thinking of the answer when you spoke, “I need to talk with you.” Your voice was thick with emotion, and you hadn’t planned on it sounding like that. Hadn’t planned on talking at all.

She looked at you, and you finally met her gaze, she watched you worried, you could only offer a weak half-smile. Which only deepened that adorable crinkle between her eyebrows. "After the meeting," you said, then turned to face most of the public.

The meeting started.

True to your word, the meeting didn’t solve anything. It passed unbearably slowly and not just because you kept watching the clock. Eileen stared openly at you, though you refused to even glance her way. The only way you could tell she was staring at you periodically was due to Angie’s hand tightening around your own every so often.

People watched the three of you, and you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed. Instead you tried to think of some excuse to get out of talking with Angie. Either that or some lie that would deflect what was actually bothering you.

The meeting finished and barely a second later Angie was already maneuvering you towards the exit. You were halfway to the door, when you were stopped by Sheriff Hope, “Y/N can I talk with you?” 

“Sure.”

He gave a pointed glance towards Angie, who gave him a polite if cold smile. Angie had kept next to you the entire night, always a hand on you. It was a protective gesture, sweet, but you also knew it was also her staking her claim on you while Eileen lurked around here somewhere. 

He looked away first seeming to realize she wasn’t going to leave, and she wasn’t going to let him take you somewhere more private and cleared his throat. Still he spoke quieter, trying not to bring too much attention to the three of you, though that was impossible all things considered. “I know this is short notice, but we’ve been keeping shifts out on the beach lately since finding those kids. We’re running out of guys to do it and I was hoping you could convince some of your coworkers to do it?”

“Yeah absolutely.” You knew it would be fruitless, but if it helped people to sleep at night then sure.

“Do you mind taking tomorrow morning’s shift?”

You nodded, “Sure.”

He smiled, wrote down the information, while he explained which beach, that you’d have one of the rookies from the police department with you, and then the most important information, “And it’ll be from four to eight in the morning.”

A twinge of regret settled in your stomach for agreeing to do this, but regardless you nodded. “Alright.”

As soon as he finished talking with you, Angie directed you outside.

The door opened as you both descended the stairs, you braced for whoever it was. “Angie, Davenport wanted to ask you something about the business imports, he mentioned you would know.”

You both turned back to look at the man, Angie looked ready to tell him off, but you squeezed her hand and she relaxed. It was a perfect excuse to leave before Angie could ask what was wrong, you gave a small smile, whispered only loud enough for her, “You can go talk business if you want.”’

She glanced at you, deliberated before sighing. Kissed you on the cheek and dropped the keys in your hand. “I won’t be gone longer than a minute.”

_More like five,_ you thought. But still you walked to her car, unlocked her door, knowing she had given you her keys specifically because that meant you would wait until she got back. Part of you considered running back in just to give her, her keys and leaving.

Sure, it would be obvious at that point, that you were avoiding her, but there was only two weeks left of this deal and you could hold out that much longer. You sighed, leaned against her car and waited.

Waited, and sat on the edge of the hood, and waited some more. Listened as the door opened again and someone descended the steps. Then they spoke, and you knew that the universe hated you. 

“Y/N,” Eileen walked up, offered a polite smile. 

“I’m not in the mood for this,” you muttered.

“That makes two of us, so let’s skip the pleasantries.” She said, and you finally looked at her.

She looked pale and as shitty as you felt. None of that seemed to deter her though.

“How about we skip the entire conversation in general?” You said. 

She stepped closer, the necklace felt hot against your skin, “If only it were that easy.”

“It _is_ that easy.”

She took both of your hands in hers, watched you focused. “You’re going to break up with Angelique.” She said it slowly as if that would make you listen. “And then apologize for breaking up with me.”

You laughed, pulled your hands away from hers. She stared at you in shock, “How stupid do you think I am?”

“I’m giving you a chance-”

“To ruin my life? Yeah, no thanks.”

She was watching half confused and half pissed. She stepped closer, so close she was barely an inch from you. 

Heels clicked against the stone steps, and you smiled at Eileen. “I think it’s better if you leave now.” You muttered.

She didn’t back away, and you caught the unmistakable outline of Angie in the corner of your eye. You turned to fully look at her, Angie looked worried for just a moment, the fear gone so quickly you must've imagined it. 

Eileen glanced over, at her, barely bothered. “Angelique, how nice of you to join us.” Eileen wrapped her arm loosely around your shoulders, smiled pointedly.

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife, Angie smiled so wide and fake that it could’ve been comical if it wasn’t so threatening. “If you value your life whatsoever, I would suggest not touching what’s mine.” 

“She’s not-”

“I am.” You answered, just to drive the point home, just to see the anger in Eileen’s eyes and the pride in Angie’s. 

Angie stepped closer, “Don’t mistake my generosity so far as kindness, if Y/N wasn’t so insistent on being nice, you wouldn’t be here right now.” 

Eileen stepped away from you, and you stayed purposely still, not willing to move. Angie stepped closer, and for every step she took forward, Eileen took one back. 

“So, I’ll give you one last chance,” she said as if giving a business proposal, “You’re going to leave town tonight, or I’ll have you run out by the morning.”

Eileen didn’t say anything, just glared before storming off back into the building. 

Angie turned to you, that fire still in her eyes, but you weren’t afraid. She lifted your chin so that your face was only an inch from hers, she was watching you intently. You parted your legs so she could step between them; her thumb brushed down your cheek, hands barely shaking, and you could tell she was doing her best to let it go. You leaned into the touch, offered a soft smile, and the anger dissipated.

“I leave you for a few minutes…” She said, and it was supposed to be a tease, but her voice still had that edge to it.

“In my defense you said you would be gone only a minute.”

“I came back as soon as I could,” she offered soothingly. 

You laughed, tightened your legs around her and pulled her in for a kiss. All in the name of a distraction, certainly not because you simply felt like kissing her. 

She melted into the kiss, pulled you closer until your legs were firmly wrapped around her, you suspected the jealousy fueled this more than she would want to admit. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care when she gripped your hips a little too tightly and you sighed into her mouth. 

If you were lucky, maybe you could distract her enough that you could leave her with a kiss on the cheek and deal with her questions another day.

Of course, as soon as you planned your escape, Angie pulled away from the kiss, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing.” You tried to pull her into another kiss, she didn’t budge.

“Is it Eileen?” She asked and her jealousy was adorable, even if you knew it could be deadly.

“No, screw her.” You rolled your eyes.

“I believe you already did.” 

You gave her a mock scowl, she finally smiled. “You’re staying over tonight.”

“I have an early shift tomorrow.” 

“Which is exactly why you should stay the night, I’m closer to the precinct and beach. It’s a shorter drive.”

It also meant that she could interrogate you until you told her the truth. Still you nodded.

She didn’t interrogate you immediately when you made it to her house. Instead she started to make dinner and tried her best to comfort you. All of it was disconcertingly normal, and routine. What you assumed normal people did with their loved ones. 

Angie cooked while the smell of garlic and butter permeated the air, you helped with the drinks and dishes. You knew all of it was to lull you into relaxing, enough for you to be honest. Which made it that much sadder when she handed you a plate of food and asked. “What’s wrong?”

And like the lovesick fool you were, you fell for it.

“The last woman killed wasn’t murdered by Barnabas.” You said, “I talked with both Barnabas and Julia, and they both said he didn’t do it. Julia would have no reason to lie to me.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is. Julia says the last person he fed off was weeks ago. There’s been bodies turning up since then, and I should’ve noticed sooner…” Your throat burned and you refused to cry, it was bad enough that all it took for you to be honest was dinner and Angie looking at you concerned.

But the nightmares were starting to wear on you, the warnings, the deaths, all of it was starting to be too much. It was the only explanation for why you swallowed and spoke again, “I mentioned a nightmare weeks ago,” you hesitated, you hadn’t talked about the dreams since you were a kid. “My ancestors, the ones you killed, have been haunting my dreams. They’ve been warning me that you cursed someone close to me and that whoever that is will end up killing me.”

You felt sick and simultaneously relieved, your hands still shook, but your voice didn’t. “So, I’m going to ask you, and I want you to be completely honest, have you?”

Her expression was purposefully blank, you knew she was trying to process it all, suddenly she took your hands. “I haven't cursed anyone since Carolyn.” Then said the next part so sincerely, “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, sweetheart.” She must have seen the shadow of doubt in your expression because she leaned closer, looked equally determined and genuine. “I promise.”

You nodded. It felt like a weight was lifted off your chest, both because you trusted her, and because she seemed to trust you too. You felt the want—the need, to be honest with her, completely honest. Even with all your feelings, but you pushed that thought down for another day. 

She smiled, genuinely smiled, then stood up. “I do have something we could use.” Then disappeared down the hall, you sat there waited, took a bite of food. Then another bite of food because she hadn't been lying about making the best fettuccine alfredo. Angie appeared a few minutes later, smiling, clutching a book that looked ancient. “Something to look over if there is another supernatural thing in Collinsport.” 

She put the book on the table, opened it, and you realized just how old it was. Throughout dinner she talked excitedly about it while the two of you looked through it, and you suspected that this was a facet of her life that she had never been able to discuss with anyone, save for whoever originally showed her this stuff in the beginning. It was disarmingly adorable or maybe you were just that in love. 

It was also slightly disconcerting to realize the sheer number of supernatural creatures that existed. But you reminded yourself that it was highly unlikely that you would come across these things in your life, followed by the worrying question of if Collinsport attracted these kinds of things.

Angie seemed to be in the same vein of thought because she paused her rant for a few moments before speaking. “I don’t think you should go to the beach.”

“I already said I would, I can’t exactly back out now.”

“I can convince-”

“I’ll be fine,” you glanced at her, she was staring at the book purposely disinterestedly, which she always did when she wanted to seem less invested in something she was extremely on edge about. You nudged her shoulder, she glanced at you. “They’ve been keeping shifts out on the beach for the past few weeks and still there’s been nothing.”

“If it’s a waste of time, then why do it?”

Admittedly you weren’t exactly excited by the prospect of sitting out in the dark on the beach after reading about how many different things could disembowel you, but you didn’t plan to back out now. “Because if it’ll help people to sleep at night, it’s worth it.”

You suspected that Angie was starting to remember just how dangerous the world was. Her anxiety was concerning, but you knew it came from a place of care. 

“It’s not worth it if you lose sleep.”

You rolled your eyes, stood up and grabbed your empty plate, “What’s that saying, the needs of the many outweigh the wants of a few?”

She glanced up at you, from the dining table, “That doesn’t apply to me,” gaze turned soft at the next sentence, “and therefore it doesn’t apply to you.”

It felt odd yet not at all unpleasant for her to admit it. You understood what she meant though, your priorities converged more than they differed. But it still was a compliment to be told that she valued you over the town. 

Part of you wondered where you fell on her list of priorities; she put herself first no doubt, Barnabas would probably come second, perhaps you were third or maybe fourth. Still you could use what little sway you had to get what you wanted. 

You set the dirty dishes in the sink, turned on the facet, “And if I said that the town’s well-being mattered to me?”

She sighed, “I’d say you were too nice.” 

“But?”

She turned back to read the book, “But, if it means that much to you, then fine.”

You walked back over to the table, hugged her and used the opportunity to grab her empty plate. “Then it’s settled, I’ll go, but I take you out for lunch afterwards.”

“Breakfast, it’ll be only eight in the morning.”

“Breakfast, then.”

A semi-coherent plan formed in your mind, something where you bought her flowers again, and maybe you figured out a way to explain your feelings without stuttering. Maybe.

Oddly enough you went to bed, and it was almost normal, you and Angie had fallen into something that resembled a routine at this point. You already knew to move close enough to Angie that she could hold you or wrap an arm around you, as long as she had some type of hold on you, she seemed to relax easier.

It took longer than usual to fall asleep, between your emotions, Angie’s anxiety, and the anxiety of seeing what all lurked in the dark. Eventually you did.

\---------

You found yourself in that room again, figures of your ancestors around you, whispering nonsensical things. Your skin crawled with each whisper. Each movement. 

The anger couldn’t build. Fear bubbled up instead, you tried to move, and something burned into your arm. 

You glanced down to see an inscription along the inside of your forearm. _May your death be quick._

“You had your chance to save your own life, but now it’s too late.” The voice didn’t come from any certain person, rather emanating from them all, from the room itself. 

They were all glaring at you when you looked up again. All spread out through the room in places they hadn’t been before. “Fuck you,” you managed.

You woke up perfectly still, you didn’t dare move with the thought of something watching you. Frozen in place, the only part of you allowed to move was your hand as it was already under the covers and searched out for Angie’s hand. You needed some reassurance, some proof that you weren’t alone and that you were going to be okay.

Finally, you latched onto her hand, your palm slightly sweaty but at this point it didn’t matter. You laid there for minutes, not sure how much time had passed until you risked a glance at the clock. 

The little red numbers of Angie’s alarm clock stared at you, 3:28, the house was silent. Fan spinning above you, Angie’s steady breathing. Her hand tightened around yours and she stirred, pulling you closer. 

You laid there, enjoying the moment. When you checked the clock again it was 3:32 and you decided to get up, carefully and quietly removing yourself from Angie’s grasp. Changed. On a whim you pocketed the garlic, just to be safe.

Between the nightmare and reading through a book and seeing what lurked in the shadows, your anxiety was only increasing. You walked out of the house, locked the door behind you and made your way to the car. Your paranoia skyrocketed in those few steps. You were almost convinced there was something watching you, but it was still too dark to tell. It was a raccoon you told yourself and forced yourself to keep walking at a normal pace.

Driving to the police station didn’t help your paranoia, it seemed the only songs that were playing were ones that warned of bad omens or ones that were too cheery they set you on edge. The irony was not lost on you. The darkness played tricks on your eyes, the edge of the road where the trees met the asphalt seemed to shift.

Goosebumps rose when you got out of the car and you thought that maybe your ancestors were warning you about a heart attack, if you kept up this level of paranoia it was going to be a long day. The town was empty, sky inky black, and under normal circumstances you would appreciate the isolation, now it just seemed terrifying.

Thomas was the one to drive you two over, the beach was quiet save for the occasional seagulls, and the sound of the waves. He kept the conversation going and it was easier to keep your mind off it when you talked, he offered for you two to move to sit on a petrified log because the fresh air could be good for you both. 

You agreed, and the log was thankfully dry. Fog started to roll into the beach, while you and Thomas talked, he was surprisingly good company all things considered. Nice enough and just enough of that small talk that never truly went anywhere, but also never got stale. 

It was normal, it helped to keep your mind off the nightmare, and the anxiety that you still wanted to tell Angie you loved her. It was a little more than an hour into the shift when Thomas yawned, and by extension you did too. 

He then sat up straight, “I can’t believe I forget the coffee in the car.” He stood up, “You like coffee, right?”

You knew it was going to be black coffee, and taste like diesel fuel, still you nodded. “Yeah, sounds good.” Better than nothing at this point.

He smiled, “Cool, I’m going to grab the thermos from the car.”

And then he disappeared into the fog, and then you were left alone with your thoughts. 

A foreboding coldness crept up on you then, and you picked up the flashlight, knuckles white from how hard you were gripping it. You had promised Angie to take her for breakfast, and while it didn’t _mean_ that you had to confess your love, you wanted to because for once you were convinced that it would go over well. 

Maybe not as well as she confesses her love back, because let’s be honest this was Angelique Bouchard of all people. But maybe it would help you to accept your unrequited feelings faster.

Suddenly there was a distant gasp then what sounded like Thomas tripping and falling.

“Thomas, you alright?”

No answer.

The click of the flashlight sounded too loud when you switched it on, the beam of light only showing fog. You followed towards the direction of the car, coincidentally the direction of the sound. 

“Thomas, talk to me.” You shone the flashlight around, passing quickly over a shadow that made your blood run cold. 

There was a groan to your left, and you jumped. Thomas winced when the light shone in his eyes, but he looked barely conscious. You were more worried with the blood that covered his arm. 

Your body snapped into action, quickly kneeling next to him.

His arm was bleeding worryingly, his sleeve torn, you tore off the rest of the sleeve and tied it around his arm just above the wound to slow the bleeding. 

Next you grabbed the walker talkie, “Requesting backup, Officer Pearce needs medical assistance. Do you copy?”

Static crackled through, “Hang tight, we’re coming.”

You sighed, then looked over at Thomas assessing any other injuries. He was drifting in and out of consciousness now, you carefully maneuvered his arm to rest above his heart. You put pressure on the wound.

There was a presence next to you, and you froze, fear bubbling up. 

“I knew you’d find him.”

You looked up, Eileen stood there, grinning, blood dripping down her chin. It took far too long for your mind to connect the dots. Then two thoughts occurred. It was Thomas’ blood on her. Followed closely by, _oh fuck._

Bile rose in your throat. “You’re a…”

“You can thank your cousin for that, he accidentally turned me into this.”

_Barnabas._

“You’ve been killing people.”

She shrugged, “I can’t take all the credit, but a girl’s gotta eat.”

You swallowed, “There’s more than just you?”

“I told you a lot has happened these past few weeks.” She smiled all teeth and pride, showing off her fangs and the blood that covered them, your skin crawled. 

Thomas groaned slightly; Eileen took notice.

“Why are you here?” You needed to keep her talking, keep stalling for time.

“Isn’t it obvious? To get you.” She gripped your chin forcing you to look up at her. She tsked at the tears in your eyes. “Don’t you see how good this is for us? I can turn you, and we can be together forever.”

The garlic in your pocket came to mind. You realized she was waiting for your answer and pressed for an answer you replied back. “...okay?”

She dropped her hold of your chin, “Okay?” She didn’t seem impressed with your answer, but that was the best response she was getting.

A plan started to form: garlic, grab Thomas, get to the car. Rough but still in progress. The car was roughly thirty feet away, you could get there fast, but with the added weight of Thomas, and who knew how fast Eileen could move now.

“I talk about how romantic this could be and how good it could be for us and all you have to say is _okay?”_ She huffed.

You stood up, stuffing your hands in your pockets. Grabbing the garlic. “What do you want me to say? You put me on the spot!” Would smearing it on her work? Would it kill her? Would it only make her pissed?

“How about yes? How about looking more enthusiastic!”

Well more pissed than she already was.

Regardless it was your only plan, and you weren’t planning on becoming a vampire anytime soon. You wrenched the garlic out, the Ziploc bag already open so you threw the minced garlic at her. There was what sounded like garlic sizzling and her scream. 

You kneeled to lift Thomas, but she recovered far too quickly. Gripping your shirt and tossing you like a rag doll backwards. 

It happened so quickly you were barely aware you were in the air till you hit the windshield of the car. A distinct crack rang in your ears and you prayed that it was the windshield and not your body. 

You laid there dazed waiting for the nausea to pass, waiting till the spots in your vision would go. Barely registering as she strolled casually towards you, with all the time in the world.

You kept moving, moving meant you weren’t dead yet. Breathing was good too. However, your lungs could only take in stuttering breaths.

“Garlic? Really?”

You fell off the hood of the car, wincing at the landing.

“How ungrateful can you be?”

All the pain felt muted momentarily. The most noticeable thing at that moment was the necklace burning against your chest, you untucked it from your shirt. It probably had left a bruise. Die with style you supposed.

Eileen watched you shakily stand, using the car to support yourself. She sighed, features relaxed, “We can move past this, just stop fighting me.” 

You wiped at your mouth, noticed the blood that came away. “You’re fucking delusional.” 

Anger flickered across her face and she lifted you up by your neck, no doubt to throw you again. 

Suddenly there was a pop like a firework, and she was sailing through the air like you had been. Except much farther than you. Fog dispelled around you like a crater.

Running you grabbed Thomas and thanked God that he was light. The car was unlocked, and you threw him in the backseat none too gently. He groaned but at least he was alive. 

You pressed down on the accelerator as far as it would go. Peeling out of the beach, kicking up sand and rocks in your wake. 

There was a distinct shadow in the rear-view mirror. You threw it in reverse and slammed into her. Trying to ignore the sound under the car and peeled out again. 

You drove up the road, around the bend and a cop car was barreling towards you. You swerved into a ditch. Hitting your head against the steering wheel _hard._

\--------

You laid there limp, not willing to move.

Your heart was beating out of your chest and you were panting. Neither of those things were helped by the door suddenly opening. 

“Y/N, my god. Are you alright?” It was one of the officers, holding a flashlight up on you. Slowly you nodded.

He helped you out and that’s when you took notice of the three other patrol cars. And ambulance.

You were questioned as to what happened while you and Thomas were checked for injuries and treated for the ones you had. And you couldn’t say for sure how long it took. An hour or five minutes. You knew that you told them the truth save for the parts you couldn’t.

You were also told you were in shock. Though you found it more shocking that you didn’t have a concussion. Then you laughed at your own joke. They said you were a little hysterical at the moment and that you would need to rest for the next few days. 

You sat in the back of the ambulance, with Thomas while some of the officers went down to the beach and searched for Eileen. Thomas was still in and out of consciousness, you watched him and made sure he was breathing, when you focused on your surroundings again you realized that the ambulance was moving. 

They brought you to the hospital, mostly because of Thomas, you were simply along for the ride. You sat in one of those uncomfortable chairs in a hallway, stared at the fluorescent lights until there were spots on your vision, then closed your eyes and let the spots fade. The sterile atmosphere helped in some odd way for you to process everything. 

Your ancestors had been right to a certain degree you supposed, Angie had put things into motion centuries ago and because she had cursed Barnabas, he had accidentally turned Eileen. But it begged the question of why Barnabas went after Eileen in the first place. You wrote it off as something to ask when you made it home. 

Angie could probably undo whatever had happened to Eileen, or the easier option to just kill her. At this point you wouldn’t object to that.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway and you glanced over to see Warren walking towards you concerned. He explained that he was there to take you home, and that the officers hadn’t found Eileen on the beach. 

The drive home was quiet, the sun painting the sky in beautiful red, oranges, and pinks, but you couldn’t appreciate it. Only playing back the events that had just transpired. You could feel your skin crawl. Like the time you went exploring in the old wing of the house as a child and a cockroach had crawled across the skin of your arm. It made you shiver and shudder.

Collinswood never looked like anyone’s home, it rarely even felt like yours most of the time. But as Warren pulled up to it, you were comforted by the idea of laying in your own bed. In your own room. In the safety of those walls.

“You sure you’ll be alright?” He asked.

“Yeah, fine.” You were a little nauseous, your head was pounding and your back hurt, but you were alive.

“Don’t worry about Eileen, she’ll turn up soon.”

_That’s what I’m afraid of,_ you thought. “I know.” 

You slid out of the car, with minimal pain. “Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem.” He called after.

The front door was unlocked, and you made a mental note to talk to Liz about how dangerous that was, especially considering what had just happened. Inside there were voices, barely held back anger and you truly considered taking your chances with driving back to the hospital yourself. At least they had free jello. 

You rounded the corner, immediately ducked as something smashed above your head, missing you by inches. “What the everloving fuck!” You stood and looked around the room. Angie and Barnabas were circling each other, and Liz seemed to be playing moderator from a safe distance. 

Liz noticed you first, crossed the room in a few strides and hugged you so tight that it hurt the bruises, but you were content with the affection. “Thank god you’re okay.” She pulled away and you noticed the tears building up.

“I’m fine, I do have a few choice words for Barnabas though.” 

You turned to look over at the two, Angie must have heard your voice, or snapped out of whatever argument they were having because she turned on a dime and next thing you knew you were engulfed by her perfume. When she pulled away it wasn’t fully, her arm stayed around your waist. Barnabas settled for a polite nod in your direction when he realized that Angie wasn’t going to move away from you. 

“What are you all doing up this early?” You muttered, not unkindly.

“Angie called and explained there was something wrong.”

You glanced over at Angie, questioning. “Magic, sweetheart.” She replied, her fingers playing with the pendant, you swallowed and looked towards your sister, began to explain everything that went down at the beach, the mention of other vampires, that Barnabas turned her. Every so often you felt Angie’s hand tense or falter as she fidgeted with the pendant while listening to the story. 

When you finished it took everyone a moment to process it. Barnabas was the first to speak. “Y/N, I realize we’ve had our differences, but you must understand I had no intention to hurt you however inadvertent it might have been.”

You nodded, “It’s okay, I didn’t realize people were that easily turned.”

“If the person is even barely alive by the end of the feeding, they’ll turn,” Angie added helpfully, and you were thankful to have her as a resource for all of this.

Then remembered. “Thomas, he was bitten,” you glanced at her worried.

“I can reverse the effects provided the person is in the very early stages, once they’ve fed off others, it’s harder.” 

You let the information sink in, there probably wasn’t too many vampires since the body count hadn’t increased drastically, it also meant Eileen was most likely not going to become human again. “Barnabas, why did you go after her?”

“My apologies I assumed you would not be bothered by that. Angelique explained how Eileen classified as an abuser, I checked with Julia to ensure she was telling the truth and she was.”

There was a sudden tension in the air, noticeable only to you, the realization. Angie’s hand faltered barely against your throat. “I wasn’t. But I rather not have an insane woman trying to kill me as a declaration of her love.”

Barnabas side-eyed Angie, “Yes, I can understand that.”

Angie didn’t take the bait, regardless Liz stepped in before the two could start another argument. “Barnabas, why don’t you get some sleep, it’s getting late for you.” 

He nodded, before starting towards his room. 

Angie helped you up the stairs, she hadn’t spoken since Barnabas let it slip that she had been the one to tell him. 

You felt so stupid to have trusted her, she knew what you had been asking last night and lied to your face and you believed every word. Her hands brushed against you every so often, to steady you and you didn’t want her to stop, but you also couldn’t stand it. Some distant part of you knew it was her trying to be comforting before the inevitable argument. You wished Barnabas hadn’t said anything, because you wanted her to comfort you and you wanted to cry and tell her everything that happened, but now you couldn’t without knowing she had planned it.

The door closed behind the two of you, and you pulled away from her. Walked towards your dresser, you could feel Angie’s gaze on you, still you refused to look. You turned your back to her, opened the drawer with too much force. 

Angie was the first to break the silence, “I’m sorry for not telling you.”

“I trusted you,” and you hated how your voice cracked. You slammed the drawer shut and turned to her.

“You still can,” She offered, moved closer.

You glared at her, gripping the clothes in your hand. “Then do you want to tell me what you and Barnabas talked about that night? Or the real reason you started this fake relationship with me? How about why you haven’t cursed me?” Your voice never wavered that time.

She looked surprised and you could barely suppress the scoff, of course you had noticed the lies piling up. There was a flicker of something, anger or worry, you couldn’t place, you didn’t bother to. “You’d hate me.” 

“I wish I could hate you,” you sighed, glanced towards the ceiling because your eyes felt wet and you refused to cry. “It’d be so much easier if I could write you off as an evil vindictive bitch.”

Angie looked scared for once, and you realized she _was_ afraid. She was afraid because of you, something you did or said or implied. It occurred to you then, a single thought that you didn’t entertain for more than a second before pushing it away: she might have been afraid of losing you.

She swallowed, hesitated once, twice. “I planned to betray you in the very beginning, that night at the bar.” She didn’t meet your eyes, “I didn’t have a plan just yet, but I knew you were useful. I thought maybe I could get close enough to you, curse you, something.” 

She looked at you, and you stared at her purposely blank. She looked away, set her jaw and whatever resolve she had, before speaking again. “But then we talked, and the deal was made. I liked you. I stopped planning your destruction...and I made a point to never hurt you. I never lied when I said I cared about you.”

You took time to process it, truly process it. You wanted to believe it, wanted so much that it almost hurt. But you also knew how easily she had lied to you last night. Finally, you spoke, “Okay.”

“Okay?” She looked at you confused, but hopeful.

“Well, what’s done is done, and in three weeks we can wash our hands of this and pretend like it never happened.”

Her expression flickered over so many emotions so quickly that you couldn’t name them, all that you saw was genuine hurt. It made your heart ache, you still walked into the bathroom, closed the door behind you and turned on the shower like nothing was wrong.

Caught sight of what you looked like in the mirror, and you looked like shit. Bloody lip, exhaustion, you were sure there was more you could notice, but you glanced away. Too angry at everything to bother paying attention. 

Under the shower stream you watched as the blood and sand of the day washed off you. You were careful not to soak the bandages. But you let the water run down you, and let your brain replay the events. Tears fell and mixed with the rivets of water and you cried until you felt finished. 

You stayed in the shower until you felt that you were thoroughly scrubbed of blood and grime.

Once out you toweled off and wiped the steam off the mirror. Inspecting your reflection, the cut looked better, bloodshot eyes from crying, there were already too many bruises forming, you knew your back would look terrible for the next few days. You still looked like shit, not that you expected to look any better.

Angie was sitting on the edge of your bed when you opened the bathroom door, you figured she would have left.

“You’re still here.” You said.

“Is there somewhere else I’m supposed to be?” She looked up and you could tell she was back to her usual colder temperament, noticed that her eyes were slightly glassy. You forced yourself to look away, not willing to feel bad, not right now.

“Work.” You stated.

She fisted the comforter, anger in her voice, “You nearly die, and I’m supposed to go to work like it’s no big deal?”

“I’m fine.” You lied.

She stared at you, scrutiny in her gaze. You could almost feel her gaze, she noticed your bloodshot eyes, the cut on your lip, whatever else you may have gotten. “Bullshit.”

“What do you want Angelique?” And her full name felt odd in your mouth, it had always been Angie this, and Angie that. But now it didn’t seem right.

She seemed to notice the change, because she noticed everything when it came to you, but didn’t mention it. She spoke gentler, but not any less demanding, “I want to look over your injuries.”

“They already did their best,” you answered back.

“Yes, but they’re not me.” She patted the spot next to her, and you wanted to keep as much distance between you two as possible. But your entire body ached for some type of rest and comfort, and so you did. 

You sat next to her and turned your back to her and lifted the shirt as high as you could, she helped with the rest. There was a sharp audible inhale, and you could only imagine the bruises forming already. You knew you were sore and that the bruises probably looked ten times worse than you felt. 

Angie’s hand lightly brushed over your shoulder blades, “And she did this?” The sheer anger in her voice was damn near terrifying, but you simply nodded. 

She pulled your shirt back down to cover the bruises, you turned back to her, “That’s honestly the worst of my injuries, the necklace took care of her, before I could get hurt anymore.”

Her gaze dropped to the necklace, and she picked it up to inspect it. You watched her, and she seemed so withdrawn and purposely professional. She returned the necklace back against your chest when she was finished and stood up. “You’ll need some rest for now, I might have a few things that can help the soreness.” Her voice had that clipped and curt tone that you had always overheard, but never had directed at you.

She didn’t try to kiss you, and that hurt more than you wanted to admit. Angie made it to the bedroom door before you spoke, “Angie.” Her hand stopped at the doorknob, she turned to look at you closed off and reserved and so unlike her. “I’m sorry.”

She gave a small nod, and left, closed the door behind her and you wished Barnabas had never said anything. Tears started to run freely. Before you knew it, you were sobbing. You weren’t sure from what emotion, fear from earlier today, or the feeling of heartbreak, regardless you sunk into the feeling.

\--------------

Eventually you fell asleep and it seemed even your ancestors didn’t try to bother you now. It was dreamless and your subconscious spared you from any more pain. 

When you woke, you noticed the curtain was barely parted, a sliver of where the curtain and the wall didn’t meet had sunlight shining through. It was later in the evening you surmised, the sun now a honey gold. Casting odd patches of light on the room. From where you laid on the bed, it shone a bit on you. You felt like you were stuck in jello and oddly content with that thought.

Of course, as soon as you moved your head started to throb. The walk to the bathroom from your bed was under normal circumstances, inconsequential. Under current circumstances, impossible. Still you managed, despite your stomach threatening to spill last night’s dinner.

Unable to see much of anything, you flipped on the light switch. Light flooded your eyesight, your eyes closing involuntarily. You peeked your eyes open, head starting to seriously throb. You went pee. Washed your hands. Now that you were fully awake, you pull up your night shirt, turning to look at your bruises.

You winced just looking at the purple and blue and green splotches across your back. Carefully you made your way downstairs, still semi in the nap-afterglow, despite your aching bones. The headache disappeared a few minutes after walking around and you suspected that had something to do with the necklace warm against your skin. 

Carolyn and David were sitting on the couch, eating pizza and watching some movie you didn’t recognize, but they seemed invested in it. “Pizza for dinner?” You asked, throat still scratchy.

“Angie got it.” David said.

That set you slightly on edge, but just as quickly you brushed it off. “Cool.”

You walked to the kitchen, no pizza boxes insight. Then to the dining room, there sat roughly five boxes of pizza from Barry’s. Quickly and quietly you made yourself a plate and slunk off before you could get questioned, or worse, Angie would pretend like nothing was wrong. 

Instead hiding out on the couch with Carolyn and David as they watched the movie. Halfway through your slice of pizza you were already starting to nod off. 

\------

Commercials came on and the kids both ran back for another slice of pizza. Someone sat down on the opposite end of the couch, “How do you feel?” 

You glanced over to see Angie sitting there, still reserved but less so. You turned back to the television. “Like shit.” A coke commercial came on, you watched disinterestedly. “What are you doing here?”

“Elizabeth asked if there was a way to magically protect Collinswood, and I wanted to check on you.”

“I’m sorry that you got roped into playing the concerned girlfriend.” You said.

She shifted and suddenly she held your chin, turning your head to look at her. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.” And it was said pointedly, but gentle. She let go of your chin, sat down next to you and pretended to be interested in the vacuum commercial.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier,” you stared at the half-eaten piece of pizza, “I do care about you, I was just angry.”

“I know.”

Carolyn and David ran back in just before the movie resumed, and the atmosphere shifted. Angie sat next to you, pretending that she was interested in it. You tried your best to stay awake, but you continued to nod off, always catching yourself before you actually fell asleep. 

Angie eventually nudged you, and you woke up, only for her to murmur, “Let’s get you to bed.” You agreed and let yourself be guided up the stairs and to your room. Never thinking about anything other than Angie’s arm around your waist, and her hand in yours, and her perfume. 

It wasn’t until you were laying in bed, the comforter pulled up to your neck as she flitted about grabbing some pajamas that you said, “You’re staying the night.”

She stopped her search momentarily, “Do you want me to?”

“Of course, I do,” you said, and the reserve she had earlier melted off. 

She changed and you waited and finally she climbed into bed and you moved closer until your head was on her shoulder and your arm across her waist. She hesitated just a moment, before her arm wrapped around you, careful not to push against any of your injuries. She stayed quiet, didn’t try to slip in an innuendo, just stared at you.

This was all different, and not good, but not necessarily bad. Just different. Some part of you wondered how things would have gone if you had changed just one thing from today, and if you would even be alive right now.

“Sweetheart.” She soothed. And you hadn’t realized you were crying until that moment, when she wiped at the tears, and you tried to stop the shuddering breaths. She moved towards you, holding your face with her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She said it so gently, so genuinely. 

It fucking hurt. All of it did, from the sickening fear on the beach, to the fact that Angie had gone behind your back. To the way that she was looking at you right now, soft and worried and pained.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is late, but I thought I broke my toe, turns out I just sprained my entire leg rip. Also sorry for leaving y'all on that angst, here’s some fluff, and I'm not gonna lie, I'm still sad they didn't pull a Mamma Mia on us at that party in the movie. I just want some ABBA songs is that too much to ask for? Probably.

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep, or when you stopped crying, or when you woke up. You weren’t sure about anything except for the fact that Angie was awake, and you weren’t ready to wake up yet. Burrowed further into the pillow, it moved slightly, you vaguely realized she was the pillow.

But you couldn’t be bothered to move and fell back asleep.

The next time you woke, it was to Angie lightly and mindlessly tracing patterns on your arm. You stretched then winced as you were reminded of the bruises and the soreness. And everything that happened yesterday came crashing down.

“Are you okay?” She asked, softly, like she wasn’t sure how awake you were. 

You hummed, “I’ve been better, but I’m less sore than I expected.” Glanced up at her and she didn’t seem as reserved and coldly professional like yesterday, but there was still that hurt in her eyes. “Are we okay?”

“That’s entirely up to you, sweetheart.” She sighed.

You laid there, trying to find a way to articulate your feelings and pretended you didn’t notice how she held her breath waiting for your answer. “Just because I’m still a little pissed at you doesn’t mean that I don’t want you here.” You muttered, her mouth quirked upwards, eyes hopeful. Quickly you continued, “But I need you to be honest with me, from now on.”

“I promise,” she said, taking one of your hands and resting it on her heart. Her heart thrummed against your hand and you blushed, looked away. The sincerity, and the way Angie watched you, coupled with the fact that your hand was just a little above breast all had a hand in the heat that crept up your face.

When you glanced back at her she was watching you still sincere, but with a glint in her eyes. Her hand barely tightened around yours as she dragged it down--you snatched your hand away, scoffed though you were smiling. “You’re impossible.”

You turned to climb out of bed, and she pulled you back towards her, careful yet insistent. Finally, you faced her again, she cupped your jaw, “I do mean it though.”

“The flirting or the promise?”

“Both.” She answered, smiled sweetly.

Exhaustion crept back onto you, you sighed and laid back in bed. She smirked triumphantly, pulled you back against her. “Did you fix Thomas?” You asked.

“Of course.” Her hand resumed the mindless and distracting patterns from before.

The two of you laid in bed until you felt it was time to get up.

\------------

Breakfast was an interesting ordeal, everyone awake and sitting around the dining table. Not only because Angie and you walked in hair mussed and her wearing some of your clothes. Oddly enough that had almost become routine that it didn’t warrant any interest. But rather because of Barnabas, “I propose we have a ball.”

Liz glanced up from her newspaper, “A what?”

“A ball.” He repeated, “and a most splendid one.”

“A ball for who?”

“For the entire town, of course.”

Carolyn slowly flickered her gaze up from her food, disinterestedly, “Don’t you know the entire town kinda hates us.”

Not far from the truth, everyone gave a pointed glance to you and Angie. Angie smirked, while you stared slightly at a loss, you hadn’t planned on being the most well-liked out of the Collins. 

“Balls are demonstrations of power. Balls are how the ruling class remain the ruling class.” Barnabas said.

Roger nodded, “Exactly what I’ve been saying, this family could use some balls.”

You noticed Liz roll her eyes, you stifled a laugh. Angie spoke, “I don’t know that it’s smart for us to throw one now.”

No one seemed to catch the use of _us,_ except for you. Mentally you lodged it away as something to think about later, but for now you had to agree.

He tilted his head in acquiesce, spoke and it wasn’t hostile, or even necessarily passive-aggressive towards her. Some part of you felt proud they seemed to have put their disagreements aside for whatever reason. “I’ve given it great consideration, we invite the entire town, and with the barriers you’ve set, only those not afflicted can enter. We’ll have at least a better estimate of who might be afflicted.”

It was more thought-through than you would give Barnabas credit for, you were at least semi-on board. 

“Besides, the Collins have always held the biggest and most splendid balls.”

You suppressed the urge to laugh, because your humor sometimes was that of a twelve year old.

Carolyn finally seemed to be at her limit of listening to the word _balls_ over breakfast, because she finally snapped. “People don’t throw balls anymore stupid.”

“Do they not?”

“They throw...happenings.”

“And how, pray, does one throw a happening?”

“Well first things, first, you’ll need a mirror ball, and booze, lots of booze-”

“Carolyn,” Liz warned.

“We shall have spirits enough to fill a schooner's hull.”

“And…” Her gaze flickered to a magazine cover, “-ABBA.”

He nodded, “Odd name, but very well, they shall be our guest of honor.”

Oddly enough you seemed excited by the thought, you all did. 

**\---------**

Barnabas insisted he could handle it by himself, with Carolyn’s guidance, and only five days later the house looked prepared for a party. Still you prepared for the worst, some type of awkward instrumental music, odd atmosphere, only helped by alcohol. 

You felt the bass from downstairs, and paused, before making your way towards the sound. Downstairs the party was just beginning, and you would admit both Barnabas and Carolyn had planned it perfectly. There was even a lightshow as the music played, it was surreal and impressively cool.

For the beginning and most of the party you stayed close to the dancefloor, not necessarily a testament to your want to dance, but you preferred it to people trying to ask about you and Angie. As soon as you noticed someone starting to approach you, you’d slip into the crowd on the dancefloor for a song or two and when you were sure they were gone, you would leave. The process repeated multiple times, before you finally managed to find a table amid all the chaos and sat down.

It wasn’t long before someone sat next to you and you nearly stood up until you realized it was Lara. She offered a small smile, “Trying to hide from your adoring fans?” 

You laughed, “Something like that.” Relaxed back into the seat, “I haven’t thanked you yet for writing about Angie and I, or about what went down on the beach with Eileen.” 

Only three days after the entire fight, Lara had asked you a few questions and the next day the front cover of the newspaper was about you of all people. The entire article had you painted as a town hero fighting your serial killer psycho ex. Not untrue, but not exactly something you wanted broadcasted to the entire town. On the brightside it had left no doubt that Eileen was responsible for the murders, and that you were innocent.

Of course, Angie had been right, politics was practically witchcraft.

“It was nothing,” she hummed, watched a few people loudly drinking and talking.

Moments passed as you listened to the music, before you spoke. “Why be nice to me?”

She had already been expecting the question it seemed, because she answered without hesitation. “There’s a rule in place at the office. Do you know what it is?”

You shook your head, apprehension starting to creep in.

She offered a half smile, “Write about whatever injustice, but never praise the Collins name.” She shrugged, “It’s been there as long as anyone can remember, never actually spoken but it’s understood. I got bored and wanted to break it just to try, and well then you saved my cat and I figured why not?”

You nodded slowly.

“And the rest of this?”

“It’s fun.”

Another person started to make their way over to the two of you and Lara nudged you, you made your escape. 

\---------

Vicky stood out on the balcony, you quietly slipped out to stand with her, she glanced over and offered a polite smile. You blamed the fact that she was still semi-new as a part of the household for why you hadn’t spoken with her often enough. It wasn’t that you wanted to make her feel like an outsider, or keep her out of your ‘clique,’ you simply knew your sister and Julia better. 

Still you decided an effort needed to be made your part, so you asked. “How are you?”

“Nervous, excited...happy?” She said, as if she was confused by the last feeling. 

You chuckled. “Parties will do that to you.”

She relaxed slightly, “Can I be honest with you?” You hummed out something resembling a yes, she paused as if trying to concentrate on the words before saying them. “I think I’m in love with Barnabas.” She glanced at you for your reaction.

You smiled at her, “That’s wonderful!”

“Are you sure?”

You laughed, “It’s fairly obvious he loves you too.”

“There’s a difference between talking about my ‘birthing hips,’ and actually being in love with me.”

“Your what?” You shook your head, pushing the thought out of your head, “nevermind, I think it’s better I don’t know.” If that’s how they flirted, you were lucky Angie and yours was a different style. Sighed, then tried again. “I’m almost certain that the entire reason for this party was to impress you.”

She raised her eyebrows skeptically, glancing at the sheer number of people still arriving. You continued, “My family is not exactly known for being open about our feelings, that doesn’t mean we don’t try, but it isn’t as easy as it is for some people. This is definitely something we would do to show our feelings rather than explain.”

“You seem pretty good with Angelique.” She offered.

The heat ran to your face before you could stop it, you glanced away, suppressed a laugh. While you didn’t laugh, you ended up managing to look angry, because instantly Vicky turned worried. “Did I say something wrong?”

You shook your head, thought of a quick lie, “No, no, nothing like that.” Anxiously your fingers started to drum against the stone parapet, “I’ve gotten so used to expecting some kind of sarcastic comment about Angie and I, that I guess I was just waiting for it.”

She offered a small nod, “I think you’re good together.”

“We understand each other, more than most.” You said and left it at that, gave her a small tired but sincere smile and left Victoria to her own devices.

Barnabas passed you down the hall, no doubt on a search for Victoria. 

The ballroom was in full swing with the music, you leaned against the entryway and watched. Heard the unmistakable click of heels and turned to see Angie walk through the doors and straight into the crowds of people. They parted easily out of her way, and you watched pleased from your spot. 

Pleased because she still hadn’t noticed you yet, and it gave you time to admire how stunning she looked. Red dress that matched her lipstick, the sequins caught off the mirror ball and to say she looked beautiful would be an understatement. You desperately wished you could take a picture of her, and just stare. But she seemed to sense you not seconds later and turned to smirk at you.

Like a deer in headlights, you froze.

She sauntered towards you, the crowd parting, suddenly she was so close to you. You felt pleasantly warm, her perfume was nice. The way she was staring at you was too. 

She smirked, brushed her finger across your lips, the cut stung barely under her touch, she stared at it, then leaned closer. She pulled you in for a kiss, broke away and smirked. This may have been your party, your house, but this was her element.

“You look beautiful.” You breathed, swallowed, then smiled. 

“We both do.” She hummed, her hand finding your waist, “How do you feel?”

“Not exactly excited by the prospect of being used as bait, but I’m not half bad.”

Angie smiled.

It was all showy displays of affection, which didn’t bother you as much as you expected it to. She found a semi-secluded table, but that didn’t mean anything because you would catch at least two people staring every time you glanced out to the crowds. Angie always kept her hand on you, arm wrapped around your shoulders, at the small of your back, fixing the strap of your dress when it slid off your shoulder. Anything, and everything she could do to touch you. 

Even though you knew it was her being seductive, you still fell for it, nonetheless.

Angie watched the party with a degree of separation from the party itself, you asked. “Are you already planning on how to outdo Barnabas for the Fourth of July?”

She chuckled, “No, but we’ll still need to discuss that.”

You waited for her to continue, she glanced at you, mouthed _later._

“We kind of need to plan that though.” You said and hoped it was loud enough to hear over the music.

“I agree sweetheart, but we still have another date before then, and we can discuss it then...”

You glanced over at her, she smirked, eyes lighting up and just daring you to challenge her.

However, you knew if you did she would list off each of the times she had counted as dates, and state matter-of-factly that there was one more per contract. It would be fruitless, and she would tease you. So, you muttered, “Sounds good.”

Which wasn’t the reaction she was hoping for, you knew, because then she stood up and offered her hand. “Why don’t we find somewhere more private?” She asked, you took her hand and let her lead you down one of the halls and farther away from the party.

She had a plan, something obviously in mind, but you simply focused on her, and the curve of her lips, and how her hand felt warm in yours.

The two of you entered the library and suddenly she turned on her heel and pushed you against the door, your back closing it. Her mouth sought out yours and you were still in shock with the change of events.

There was a desperation to her kisses, and to the way that she held you. As if at any moment you may disappear if she lessened her grip. She kissed down your neck, you sighed, she nipped at your throat, and you were already lost in a haze of lust. This needed to stop otherwise you might just let it get out of hand.

She nipped again, a little harder, your will was wavering as she continued. You tried to find the strength to push her away gently, but to no avail, instead you tried murmuring, “Angélique,” but it came out as a moan.

You felt her smile against your neck, you weren’t sure if it was from the moan or the use of her full name, regardless she pressed a kiss to your collarbone as if rewarding you for it. Her hands squeezed your hips before trailing upwards, she stopped her path down your neck.

“I want to hear you say that you’re mine.” She breathed, voice low and raspy. 

You wanted to, you knew all it would take was that and she’d fuck you against this door like there was no tomorrow. But you also knew that you didn’t want her to leave in the morning if she did, you didn’t want this to be just some hookup. So, you smirked, leaned your head back against the door and sighed, “Even if that’s a lie?”

Her eyes darkened intimidatingly, and you knew you were playing a dangerous game, she pushed herself closer against you, “Say what you want, but everyone outside this room knows you’re mine.” She hummed, brushed her hand down your face as a tease. “No one wants to risk crossing me, by going after you. You could go out there right now, and flirt with whoever you want, but I guarantee that no one would take you up on that offer.” She trailed her hand down your neck, down the probably already forming hickies, “Because. You’re. Mine.”

“Are you willing to chance that?” You asked the challenge in your voice unmistakable. Your hand already moving towards the doorknob.

She took your wrist gently, firmly. She pulled away to glance at you, her eyes a different kind of look to them, she smirked. Her other hand traced up your thigh, you parted your legs, and she smiled cruelly. “Sweetheart, I don’t believe you’re in a position to make demands.”

There was a moment of clarity, that this was her plan. To push your buttons until you got angry enough that you kissed her back, and eventually fucked. It explained her talk about the next date, and the touches, and this. Still you knew what would end it just as quickly. 

Her hand stopped just below your heat, you chuckled, smiled breathlessly and relaxed. “So, does that mean you won’t stay the night if I ask you to?”

Her expression softened slightly, hand letting go of your wrist. It still wasn’t enough yet. You avoided her gaze at the next sentence because it was partly true, and because it would help your case. “Make fun of me if you want, but I do sleep better when you’re around.” You said and it sounded bitter, because it was true, and because you were embarrassed. But it still had the desired effect, she softened, her hand dropped from your thigh.

When you glanced back at her she looked almost defeated, and you knew you had won. “Of course, I will.” 

The moment felt charged with something you didn’t know what to name, just that Angie looked soft, and the hurt you had seen in her eyes days ago came back mixed with something like longing. You didn’t regret the comment you had made days ago, it was true, you planned to cut off contact with her as soon as the breakup was finalized, it had been the plan for both of you. 

But that didn’t mean you didn’t regret the hurt that it caused Angie.

It had cut her deeper than you planned. Even now she looked at you like she was waiting for you to suddenly negate the entire deal and walk out. Instead of letting the moment stretch until it became unbearable or you said something too close to your actual feelings, you tugged at her hand and spoke, “Let’s get back to the party, I want at least one dance with you.”

She followed you, let herself be pulled by you. You passed the balcony and glanced to see Barnabas and Victoria locked in an embrace, you glanced worriedly at Angie. 

She caught sight of them, her mouth set in a hard line, but she didn’t look like she usually did when she was jealous.

This was envy, but not jealousy and rage.

Your step faltered, but Angie continued walking.

\--------

The dance floor was crowded, but nonetheless people made room when Angie stepped forward. She turned to you, placed her hand on your hip, and you stepped closer. Got into position and then you were slow dancing. 

She was a good dancer, and you weren’t half bad either. She didn’t tease you, lingered occasionally, but that simply could be attributed to lack of practice on both parts. It kept you both focused on other things, the movement, the song, anything other than letting her think about Barnabas.

The party was still going when you retired to your bedroom, Angie came in a few minutes later with a list of people’s names who hadn’t come or who claimed they had previous engagements. She didn’t bother you to look over them, simply changed out of her dress and climbed into bed with you. 

She threw her arm over you, pulled you close against her chest and you relaxed. She sighed, “When this is all over, what do you plan to do?”

It gave you pause, silence filled the room except for the distant sound of music still playing. “I don’t know.” To be honest you hadn’t thought that far ahead. “What about you?”

Her hand teased the waistband of your pajama bottoms, “I can think of a few things,” she murmured. 

You arched away from her, fell off the bed. Quickly you sat up, huffed and shot her a withering glare. 

She laughed, it was loud and sudden. “I’m sorry,” she tried to say through the laugh, but she was still laughing. “Sweetheart, come here, I’m sorry.” She opened her arms to you, still trying to quiet her laughter, and failing.

You stubbornly glared at her and remained on the floor. She sighed though she was smiling, neared the edge of the bed and offered her hand. You mumbled defensively, “I’m ticklish.”

Of course, she heard it, her eyes lighting up. “Come here.” She took your arm and tried to pull you up.

“Just so you can torture me? No thank you.” You pulled out of her grasp.

“Torture you?”

“Tickle, torture, they’re basically the same thing.” You defended, still on the floor.

She rolled her eyes, lifted her hand and gestured too quickly for you to understand what she had done. There was a sudden pressure around your body, like you were in an elevator going up, or swimming underwater. It happened quickly, your body being pulled forward and up and you stumbled trying to catch yourself, but before you could catch yourself you were sitting back in bed. 

Angie threw her arm around you, smiled. You stared shocked, then spoke. “I keep forgetting you can do things like that.”

She hummed, smile still present and so beautiful. Slowly you adjusted the blankets, laid back down. Her leg wrapped around yours, effectively trapping you against her. “It’s not all curses and black magic, you know.”

“What is it mostly?”

“Convenient things, changing the channels without getting up, the like.” She spoke and you could tell she was getting tired, yawning. 

You suppressed a yawn, commented on how she should show you some of the nicer things she could do one day. Then fell asleep.

\----------

The house was painted with blood, and you could hear screaming. Your feet pounded against the floor and downstairs Eileen stood there, grinning and bloody. The remains of your family strewn throughout the room, you puked.

When you woke your hand was already halfway to the lamp, you were breathing heavy and desperate to tell yourself that this wasn’t a warning from your ancestors this was simply stress and an overactive imagination. 

There were footsteps outside your door, you froze, held your breath. Slowly the door creaked open, and someone walked through. You turned the lamp on, Angie stood there with a glass of water in her hand. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, rasped out, “Nothing.” It sounded like a lie, even to your ears.

Her eyes narrowed, “If you expect me to be honest, you need to stop lying.”

She was right, but still you looked away. Stared at the floor and sighed. “It was just a nightmare involving Eileen and my family. It freaked me out is all.”

She nodded, set the water on the nightstand, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Then you noticed that the house was quiet. “What happened to the party?”

“It ended around three.”

“What time is it now?”

“Four thirty.” She gestured towards the lamp, “Do you plan to keep that on for the rest of the night?”

Begrudgingly, you turned it off and settled back into bed. Angie moved closer and settled next to you, “You know that I won’t let anything happen to you, or your family.” She said, her arm wrapping around you.

It was less protectiveness and more of a ‘I’m the only one allowed to torture the Collins family,’ you reasoned. “I know.”

Eventually you fell asleep, only to be awoken when Angie left and then you fell back asleep. It seemed all of Collinsport was still asleep or nursing their hangover.

—————

The day after the party you were told that Barnabas and Roger had made a deal. Inconsequential to you personally, but you mused on the irony that it seemed your family viewed everything in relation to a deal or negotiation. 

The second day after the party, you were made aware of the specific details of their deal. Roger would either become a model citizen and father to David or leave and never return.

It was to no one’s surprise that Roger had his suitcases packed. Still you felt the betrayal in the back of your throat watching David stand there.

It was painful to watch. Jaw clenched, trying not to think too hard about his decision, or how much it reminded you of your father. 

David stood there and you felt sick to your stomach, you knew how much this could mess up a child. Roger patted David’s head and turned around without a final goodbye.

You wanted to drag Roger back in and knock some sense into him, any sense at all. Yell at him until he could understand how easy it should’ve been to be not selfish.

The door closed behind Roger and David ran off. His foot catching the corner of the ladder as Willie was dismantling the mirror ball and you watched as it fell.

Your blood went cold and before you blinked David was out of harm’s way, the mirror ball crashing to the floor loudly. Barnabas having already moved David using super speed. 

Barnabas stared at the shocked expressions of the family, he stood in front of the open curtain and you slowly watched as small flames appeared at his shoulders. Liz spoke, “Barnabas, you’re on fire.” Then offered a pointed smile. 

Barnabas stared at Liz confused. Finally, Willie threw the mop bucket at him effectively dousing him. 

David backed away slowly, before running off upstairs, Julia and Liz followed behind to try to help. Victoria flinched away from Barnabas before stalking off, and Barnabas finally walked off to brood. 

Leaving you to stand there and stare at the shattered mirror ball. The parallel between Barnabas’ parents deaths, and David’s near death experience was too eerie. You would need to break the curse soon.

——————

Only four days after the party, you opened the door and there stood Angie. “What are you doing here?”

“Per our contract you still owe me one more date.” She stated, smug yet pleased.

You weren’t prepared to go out, much less go out for a date, you still had pajamas on. There were plenty of other reasons you couldn’t go but the excuse you settled on was, “I can’t, I’m watching Carolyn and David right now.”

Which was true.

She pursed her lips, considering for a moment before she spoke. “Then bring them.”

She waited downstairs as you found Carolyn and David and explained that you would all be going out, Carolyn had rolled her eyes, but David seemed at least excited by the prospect of getting out of the house.

At the very least the kids were excited to ride in Angie’s car as you went into town, you hoped that whatever she had planned it was kid friendly. She pulled into the movie theater parking lot and you glanced questioningly at her. Before getting out of the car, you walked behind the kids, Angie’s hand in yours. “The movies? I thought that was impersonal.” 

“For a first date it is, but not when you’ve been on multiple dates already.” She hummed.

You chose to watch Jaws, partly so you would have something to talk about with Thomas when you visited the hospital soon, and also because the kids seemed interested in it.

Carolyn sat down, then David, then you, then Angie. Previews played and you passed the popcorn down. 

Angie held your hand, you rested your head on her shoulder and watched.

Halfway through the movie there was a jump scare, Angie jumped and by extension so did you. You glanced at her smiling, she wouldn’t meet your eyes, just determinedly focused on the movie. 

God it was cute. You settled back in, still holding her hand.

The movie finished. Carolyn and David loved it, you did too. 

On the way home you listened as David and Carolyn discussed their favorite parts. Angie pulled into a parking lot and it took you a moment to realize where you were.

“Ice cream?” Angie asked.

David quickly climbed out of the car and Carolyn took her time.

The children ordered, you tried to pay but Angie beat you to the punch. “My treat sweetheart.”

You sat across from her, “What did you think of the movie?”

“I liked it.”

“You know you didn’t have to take the children out for ice cream.” 

She smiled, “I know, but if I might as well get on all of your family’s good sides.”

“Speaking of family…” You cleared your throat, “Roger left.”

“Where?”

“It doesn’t matter, Barnabas told him to either be a good father or leave and well-“ You shrugged, “-he left.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I expected it as much as I hate to say it.”

“Is there anything I need to do?”

You looked at her, “No.”

The children returned to the table with ice cream monstrosities. Complete with m&ms, snickers, three different ice cream scoops all topped off with a cherry on top. You two changed the subject to something more boring as the kids ate and zoned out of the discussion.

“So, the Fourth of July party.”

“It won’t be nearly as intense as your party.” She said, turned her spoon in the ice cream. “A small get together, someone manning the grill, casseroles,” she glanced up, “It’ll be fun.”

“How long?”

“A good part of the day.”

“I’ll be helping at the fireworks display that night.”

“I’m sure you could get the day off if I talked to-”

“My family will be at the baseball fields for the fireworks.” You shrugged, returned back to your ice cream, “It’s family tradition, even if we don’t always stay the entire time.”

That was enough of a reason for her not to push the subject again. 

Angie was surprisingly good with them. Carolyn and she were discussing what concerts and bands Angie had seen and which ones Carolyn wanted to. David and her bonded over their favorite ice cream flavors, and it was oddly domestic. 

She drove back, and they climbed out. Leaving you and Angie still sitting in the car. “You were really good with them,” you said.

“They’re nice.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t mind a few of my own someday.”

Your face must have given away your surprise. “Is that really so surprising?” She asked, teasingly.

“I mean, I don’t know. I just kind of figured with your whole pantsuit intimidation, I never imagined you’d want to be a mother.”

“Pantsuit intimidation?”

“You know what I mean.” You laughed. “The whole businesswoman style you’ve got going on.”

“Were you intimidated by me?”

“I mean, yeah, I was.”

She grinned, leaned forward and kissed you. She broke away quickly, “Are you still intimidated?”

You scoffed, “Please I know you’re a big softie.”

“I am not.” 

You laughed, “You are! One day you’re gonna do something adorable and everyone will know you’re a big softie.” 

She glared at you, and you climbed out of the car quickly before she tried to tickle you or kiss you. Blew her a kiss just to tease her. It was the last date before the barbeque, you had done it. The entire deal was almost over, and yet you felt disappointed more than anything.

\-------------

You waited until almost the entire house was asleep, save for Barnabas, and possibly Julia. Quietly you crept out of your room and down the hall, down more halls and corners until it was silent. The old wing of the house was abandoned save for rats and spiders, neither bothered you enough to turn around.

You held a flashlight in one hand, and a hammer in the other. Anxiety turned to nausea as you neared the room, your ancestors seemed to have some type of fixation with it and you surmised it was your best chance at communicating with them. Not that you wanted to, but they hadn’t been haunting your dreams lately and you needed advice, no matter how asinine it usually was.

The door was boarded up, Liz had seen to it personally after they had found you in there. As quietly and carefully as you could you pulled out the nails, taking down the boards and taking a deep breath before opening the door. 

Inside looked old, desolate. The air smelled stale and cobwebs covered most of the furniture, except for the armchair you had sat in nightmares ago. You sighed and walked further into the room, “I know you’re all here,” dust motes swirled when you spoke. 

Nothing replied. Nothing happened.

You swallowed, glanced at the paintings of your ancestors. “I’m alive by the way,” sighed, “still trying to break the curse, but I do need at least a general push in the right direction.”

Still nothing.

You weren’t sure what you had expected, some type of helpful advice from your family was too much to hope for. Alive or dead.

With nothing left to do you turned to leave, the door slammed shut. You froze. “You survived because of that thing around your neck.” A voice spoke, and you couldn’t describe the voice itself. Nothing except for the fact that it made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. The air felt charged with electricity, or caffeine.

Slowly you nodded, “I know.”

“The curse is coming back with a vengeance,” the voice sounded like it came from behind you, and yet even if you wanted to, you couldn’t move to look at it.

“I’ve noticed.”

“You know why don’t you?”

Slowly you shook your head.

“The curse has a single purpose, and that’s to destroy us. The winds of change are starting to come, because of you.”

That didn’t sound like a good sign, still you spoke. “What did I do?”

“You’re the first one to be given anything that resembles a blessing from the witch. The curse knows this, it comes from the same magic after all. That thing around your neck is the antithesis to the curse.”

The door opened with a slow creak; the air became stale again. You walked quickly out of the room.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might fuck around and just combine the next two chapters into a really big one, no idea. Also this chapter turned out way more lighthearted than I planned

The necklace was the antithesis to the curse, which meant that it probably wasn’t cursed itself. Periodically you tapped the pencil against the notebook you had in front of you, you were sprawled out on your bed.

Stupidly you had written the word _CURSE_ , in big bold letters, under it were multiple different ideas and questions. Each one slightly better than the last. You blamed the fact that it was a quarter past midnight and you still hadn’t fallen asleep.

Your ideas consisted of, but weren’t limited to, burying the necklace near Collinswood and connecting a very long chain around the property so that it made a full circle and hopefully protected the house and inhabitants. The logistics of magic, and the fact that it meant your family would become even more of hermits stopped you before you started to calculate how much chain you would need. Still there was a crudely drawn Collinswood with a big ‘magic’ circle drawn around it on the paper.

The second idea you had was perhaps to pass the necklace down through the family, every so often someone would get appointed the necklace and tasked with figuring out how to break the curse. You gave up when realizing the curse would kill someone before then. 

There were a few more vague ideas simply written, the words, _necklace_ , _ancestors_ and oddly enough _snacks._ All underlined and with multiple questions marks following it. However, your last idea, and the one that seemed most probable in yielding results was the very bottom one, which simply said: _convince Angie._

She was your friend, even if it was a very loose term when applied to Angie. You had no problems talking openly with her about most things, but Barnabas, and the curse had always been topics you both avoided. Most of your mind agreed that she would break the curse if you asked, or so much implied, but a very small miniscule part of you feared that she wouldn’t no matter how much you asked.

It brought up the next question of, if she did break the curse would you tell her you loved her? 

Which was much more monumental a question than your exhausted self could handle, so you closed the notebook and set it aside before settling into bed and falling asleep.

\----------------

You were still no closer to figuring out how to approach the topic with Angie when July 3rd rolled around. Still you drove to Angie’s house so that you could help with whatever last-minute preparations she needed; and because you would stay the night just to solidify the relationship. Not that anyone would look too closely or question you two at this point.

It turned out that she didn’t need any help, but regardless you chose to make dinner as she went over what everyone planned to bring tomorrow.

“Deirdre is bringing potato salad, Carol-Anne is bringing peach cobbler- “

“You already bought stuff for the grill,” You offered from your spot near the counter as you cut vegetables.

She nodded, wrote something else down. “Gladys is bringing the alcohol.” You laughed; Angie defended with. “She offered!”

You shook your head, finished cutting the vegetables, dinner was finished soon after. 

\-----------------

"All I'm saying is that Wonder Woman could get it." You said, watching as it cut to commercial. The two of you were sitting on her couch watching an episode of Wonder Woman, well Angie was watching, you were shamelessly staring. "So could Lynda Carter."

She hummed out an acknowledgement, bitterness seeping into her voice, "Is it the tacky one-piece bathing suit costume that does it for you?"

You glanced at her; she gave you a pointed stare. The corners of your mouth curled upwards, you tried not to smile even with Angie staring at you slightly petulant. "It's honestly everything, I mean she's stunning. There's something hot about having powers that meant she could bench press me if she wanted. And maybe yeah, swimsuits are hot too." You said, watched her reaction.

She didn't disappoint, rolling her eyes and looking back at the television and you smiled. "She is hot, but what kind of powers consist of the lasso of truth?"

"Well I mean it is kind of kinky." You teased.

There was a moment where you could see the jealousy, coupled with intrigue overpowering each other, finally she spoke, "Is that something you're into?"

You smiled, "Maybe."

She was smirking and you could tell she was already imagining it. To be honest you were too. "Is it a lasso specifically or really anything that could hold you down?"

"I don't see why that matters," you stated, turned back to the television, saw the disappointment in the way her smirk dropped. "I'm fairly certain you could just do some magic and make some invisible bonds yourself.”

There was a pause, for a moment you almost regretted saying it at all, but then. “You’ve thought about it before, haven’t you?”

“Maybe.” You definitely had. The sex dungeon was still not completely out of possible rooms in this house.

“I’m flattered.”

You hummed out an acknowledgement, then stood up. Grabbing both plates and putting them in the sink, because you knew you had gotten under her skin.

“On a different note have you taken care of Eileen yet?”

She stretched out on the couch, “Not yet, it’s a lot harder to do so considering she just disappeared. It’d be easier if I had something of hers to use, but well I don’t suppose you have a vial of her blood or lock of her hair.”

“Ah no, I got rid of those during the breakup.” You deadpanned. She turned to look at you, you smiled. She scoffed and turned back towards the television. “I had you for a moment, didn’t I?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her to give you that as a token of affection.”

“Which is exactly why you were so concerned. I got you.” You laughed.

\-----------

Eventually the episode resumed, and you returned to the couch, Angie was sprawled out across it and taking up every bit of room she could. You looked at her pointedly, she smirked. “Aren’t you going to sit down?”

“I would if you moved.”

You sighed, laid next to her, she carefully adjusted so you would both fit comfortably. She wrapped one arm around your waist so you wouldn’t roll off the couch, you used her other arm as a pillow and begrudgingly you would admit it was nice. She threw the blanket over the both of you.

“Comfortable?” She asked and you could hear the teasing edge in her voice and know she was smirking, even if you weren’t looking at her.

“Yeah.” 

She liked to pretend she was doing this for your benefit, and while you would admit you liked any reason to be near Angie. She was the sole instigator when it came to cuddling like this, you reasoned there wasn’t anyone she could do this with even platonically.

The episode ended, replaced by some other show and you watched semi-disinterestedly, every so often you would catch yourself drifting off. That show ended and was replaced by a talk show. Slowly you sat up, Angie stirred, and you had both been nearly asleep. “You should go to bed.” You said softly to Angie, who stretched. 

She sat up, you moved so she could get off the couch easier, “We should both go to bed.”

“I think I’m going to sleep on the couch tonight.” You prepared for an excuse. Not wanting to say the real reason that you wanted to distance yourself now so that it would hurt less when it came time to break things off.

She frowned, “Are you sure?”

You nodded, stretched back out and pulled the blanket to cover you.

She deliberated a moment more before suddenly smirking, “Alright. Goodnight.” She kissed the top of your head, “But, you’re welcome to come lay down when it gets uncomfortable.”

“Thanks.” And you didn’t question the goodnight kiss. Not until she had gone to bed and you were settled under the blanket. Thrown into the cover of darkness that you finally thought about the fact that she had kissed you goodnight. 

But she was just affectionate, and a method actor. And the fact that you were in love with the woman didn’t help.

So, you wrote it off and slept instead.

You woke up cold. You weren’t sure if there was a vent above you, but you were shivering, you pulled the blanket tighter around you. And your feet stuck out a few inches.

You squinted trying to adjust the blanket so that it would cover all of you. It was the same one that you and Angie had been sharing that evening for heaven's sake! You shouldn’t have to adjust it, but then you realized half asleep that the blanket was so small that it wouldn’t cover you no matter how you moved it.

Resigned, you laid back again and then felt a spring pop in the couch. It was now poking you in the lower back slightly. 

You sighed and stood up, grabbed your pillow and made your way to Angie’s room. Thankfully she was asleep, or you might’ve hit her with your pillow had she said ‘I told you so.’ You slid into bed and she threw an arm across you. You were still cold, fortunately Angie was warm, and you let yourself fall asleep.

————

The mausoleum still looked the same, dirty and desolate. No one was in the room with you currently, you glanced around. Cobwebs covered most things, but you couldn’t find spiders or rats, or anything that was alive. 

“How nice of you to visit.”

You turned to see Barnabas’ father, Joshua. He was standing there with his wife, Naomi. After seeing the paintings of your ancestors, you had caught sight of a painting of the two, with a plaque of their names below the painting.

At least you knew their names now.

“Well you wouldn’t do it yourself.”

“We didn’t want to arouse suspicion because you told her of us.”

You shrugged, “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” The coffin in the middle of the room didn’t seem the cleanest thing ever, still you sat on it. “So, what is it now?”

“Pardon?”

“You really only communicate to tell me that I’m either being stupid or warn me of something, so go ahead.” 

He paused for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. Your focus dropped to the coffin as you wondered if you focused enough if you could change aspects of the dreams. 

“You are extremely close to undoing the curse.”

A popsicle didn’t appear in your hand, you gave up on that idea. Glanced back up at Joshua and Naomi. “Really? Mind letting me in on how I plan to do that?”

Naomi spoke, “The same way you ensured the safety of your siblings and their children.”

“Another deal?”

They both nodded, she continued, “You’ll have to be careful though, the curse seems to sense it’s destruction is near. There will be more misfortune if you’re not careful.”

“Meaning more near-death experiences for me?” You sighed and said flatly, “How fun.”

They shared a look; you weren’t privy to. But it still held some meaning, to them both. Joshua lost whatever silent conversation they held, because he sighed then turned to you. “It’s not over with your past lover.”

That made you freeze, your blood running cold. “Where is she?”

“We’re not entirely sure, all of this is more or less a sixth sense, and even then, it’s vague.”

You nodded slowly, appreciated the warning even if they couldn’t give you details. “Let me know if you figure it out.”

Then the dream dissolved, turned into less vivid things, yet infinitely more pleasant in their mundaneness.

————-

You woke slowly, unsurprisingly you were tangled with Angie. She was slightly more awake than you but hadn’t moved so as not to disturb you. 

“Sleep well on the couch?” She asked, 

You didn’t reply, instead groaning and burying your head in the crook of her neck. “You were right.” You mumbled.

“Didn’t quite get that.” Which was utter bullshit because you could hear her heartbeat, and you hadn’t spoken that quietly.

You pushed up on your elbows to look at her, eyes narrowed both in intimidation and because you were still waking up. She smiled.

You grabbed a pillow off the bed and attempted to hit her with it, she caught your wrist. The pillow hung above her face threateningly. In one swift move you let go of the pillow and it fell onto her face with a soft whoosh. She sighed.

Finally, you moved the pillow off her. “You were right.”

Her fingers splayed against your side, she smiled. “I know.” 

You scoffed jokingly, rolled over so you were no longer tangled with Angie, then scooted off the bed. 

She laid still splayed out across the bed, watching as you crossed the room. “Come back to bed.”

“It’s nearly ten, and people will start arriving at eleven.”

She rested her chin in her hand, “Had I kissed you would that have kept you in bed longer?”

You gave her an exasperated look, slipping off your pajama pants.

“That’s a yes.” She shamelessly watched you pull on your shorts.

“I guess you have to test it next time.”

It occurred to you that the breakup date was in a few days, and that there most likely wouldn’t be a next time.

“Or I could try it now.” She said.

“Or I could start making us brunch.”

“You’re too stubborn.”

“And you’re too horny.”

In retrospect you should’ve anticipated the pillow being thrown at you. But you didn’t.

—————

By eleven people started to arrive. Coworkers of Angie’s, friends of yours that you forgot Angie also knew. Some people you knew of but had never met. It admittedly wasn’t as large a party as the one at Collinswood, but it was more intimate this way. However, Angie’s idea of small get together and yours were vastly different, because even then there was still roughly around fifty people at this party.

There were less crowds of people and more groups of families, a few of the men took to managing the grill. Everyone brought a dish and the counters and island were packed full of different foods.

The centerpiece to the party besides the buffet of food was the pool. Like it had been for most of summer, it was sunny and hot, the pool however offered a reprieve from that. 

The smell of chlorine and sunscreen hit you before you had even made it to the back door, excited shouts from the kids having what you suspected was a cannonball contest. You hesitated while watching the kids splash around before realizing you would get inevitably drenched regardless of if you decided to swim or not.

With that in mind you grabbed your swimsuit from Angie’s room, Angie already in the bathroom changing so you went in search of another bathroom, because surely there was another one in this place.

You went down the hall and tried every room, the study, library, and the third door on the left, which opened to a guest room. Instead of staring you found a connected bathroom went in and changed, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about it while changing into your swimsuit.

It wasn’t necessarily distrust or anything like betrayal, it felt like something was nagging at you. Something that you should _know_ and yet you were oblivious to. Once you were finished changing and with a spare glance at the bedroom again, you left.

Passed by a woman with her toddler who seemed to be doing their best not to pee on the floor if the shimmy they were doing seemed to be any indication. “Do you know where the bathroom is?” Quickly you directed them to the guest bathroom, and the woman hastily thanked you and ran towards it.

Outside was chaotic, but in the best of ways, there was the smell of whatever food was on the grill, the kids were yelling as each tried to outdo the other with a larger cannonball, someone had brought a boombox and that was playing some rock song. You sat at the edge of the pool and absentmindedly kicked the water as you observed the party.

Lawn chairs aplenty and umbrellas, you caught sight of Angie talking with some couple who you only vaguely recognized. She laughed and they did too, and you tried not to stare, honestly you attempted to look away. But really if you were blessed with the sight of Angie in a bikini you would take it.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before you were interrupted by Carolyn sitting next to you, “What did you say to Angie?” She asked.

You looked away from Angie flustered, “What? Nothing. Why?”

Carolyn stared at you in that, _you’re being really weird, but I’m going to ignore it for now,_ type of way that was nearly identical to Liz’s. “She fixed my...problem.”

“She did?”

She nodded and smiled giddy, “She never said anything about it, but I know it was her. Coincidentally I also know she’s the one that cursed me, but I mean.” She shrugged. “At this point I’ll take what I can get.”

Carolyn got distracted by whatever game had started in the pool and soon she had left your side. You were too distracted to notice.

Angie had a guest bedroom, and there was the necklace, and the fact she had already undone Carolyn’s curse. All of it pushed against you, you felt like you were standing at the edge of a precipice, so close to discovery and yet sorely lacking.

You glanced at Angie, who managed to disappear from her previous spot, you scanned through the crowd for her. Someone else replaced Carolyn’s spot, you turned to see it was your sister. Liz had that sisterly-advice vibe going before she had even opened her mouth.

“I have to admit, I might’ve been wrong about Angie.” She whispered only loud enough for you to hear. Regardless you could accept what this was. An apology. “I was worried that she was just using you to get to Barnabas, or…” She trailed off, “She would end up breaking your heart.”

You wanted to argue that you were very much a heartbreaker, thank you very much, but Liz continued. “But you two seem happier.”

Julia floated by on a pink pool float, sipping at something that looked fruity and sweet and undoubtedly full of alcohol, topped off by a silly straw. “And less bitchy.” She offered, apparently eavesdropping, or technically reading your lips.

Liz scowled at her, pushed Julia away with her foot and Julia floated away with a smirk. Liz turned back to you, “She’s right though.”

You rolled your eyes, smiled. “Yeah, well the same goes for the two of you.”

Liz blushed, “We’re not talking about my-”

“I am. You two should just make it official at this point.”

Giving your sister advice that you probably should take yourself was such a hypocritical move and yet.

She looked away, “I’ll see about that.” She left to most likely escape from your advice and you smiled to yourself. Karma was fun sometimes.

Alone again, you searched for Angie. Instead your gaze landed on Barnabas and Victoria, both who seemed to be talking about something and laughing. Victoria had moved past the whole vampire thing quickly enough and they were happy.

It didn’t make it any less hilarious to see Barnabas wearing a Hawaiian shirt and coated head to toe in sunscreen that was probably SPF 250 or higher, with sunglasses that had flamingos on it. There was a large umbrella next to them that neither had opened. 

You stood and walked over, “Do you need help with the umbrella?”

Barnabas glanced up, “Please.”

You fiddled with the umbrella, as they spoke.

Barnabas spoke to Victoria, “Why exactly celebrate this specific day?”

“It’s the day we declared independence from England.”

“We won that war?” He asked bewildered.

You stifled your laugh, the umbrella finally opening, and you took your leave. Wondering what his reaction to the fireworks would be like.

On your way back inside there were sudden pinpricks at your neck, like you were being watched, you stopped, then turned in the direction of the feeling. Angie smiled when you made eye contact with her. She was sitting in a lawn chair in a secluded corner of the patio, under one of those large umbrellas open. You made your way over.

She was shamelessly staring, you sat at the edge of the lawn chair near her hip. Your back to the pool and most of the party, “You outdid yourself Angie.”

The smile turned proud, “I know.”

You chuckled, “I still can’t figure out if this is to impress my family or everyone else.”

Her face was slightly red, and you hoped that she wasn’t getting sunburned, making a note to find some sunscreen for her soon. “I can be hospitable, and nice.”

“I never doubted you.” You said mockingly serious, resting your hand on her shoulder, and in your best poker face said. “I always knew deep down you had a heart.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Meanwhile I still don’t know if you have a brain.”

You grinned, “I thought my only job was to sit and look pretty.”

Her gaze dropped to look you up and down, the smile turning almost predatory. “That’s too easy of a job for you.”

Water splashed and you tensed because the water was so _cold._ You glanced back to the pool and noticed one of the dads had decided to cannonball in, most of the kids were bobbing against the water. Talking excitedly about how cool that was, David was one of them, you smiled. Turned your focus back to Angie.

She was staring at the now nonexistent cut on your lip, focused yet distant. You knew the cut on your lip had bothered her more than she wanted to admit, the bruises while they had been the worst of your injuries were out of sight, therefore out of mind. But when the cut had still been prominent you would catch her staring. She would always realize she had been caught and resort to her colder temperament shooting off some teasing remark, instead of whatever was bothering her.

“It healed.” You said softly.

She looked up, “What?”

“My split lip, it healed. You don’t have to keep checking on it.” The bruises had faded a few days after the fight. Everything had healed in less than a week thanks to whatever magic Angie had.

She paused, then smirked. “Glad to see it’s healed properly.” Leaned closer, taking your chin in her hand. Inspecting the cut with a raised brow. Her eyes met yours, she smiled. “I should go check on everyone inside.” And then left the chair. 

Leaving you to sit there and wonder what you had missed. It had been flirting that was more teasing than anything, and then something had shifted from when you looked away to when you looked back. Again, you felt as if you were missing something.

\----------

Eventually everyone moved inside for food, you dried off and pulled on shorts and a tank top as a cover up. 

Inside all available furniture seemed to be taken. When looking for a seat, Angie pulled you into her lap. The plate of food nearly toppled, but you steadied it. 

Your legs hung off the side of the armchair and rested your back against the other arm.

“Comfortable?” She asked, nose tickling your neck. 

“Yes.” You looked at her, she was watching you, head tilted up, smirk on her lips and you forced yourself to focus on her eyes.

“Good. Then relax.” She stole a chip off your plate, you swatted at her hand jokingly.

The conversation delved into something that you honestly weren’t paying attention to, more focused on Angie. And the way her fingers traced up and down your legs in indecipherable patterns. Had you not been wearing shorts, maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad. But you were and it was.

Gladys spoke up and you tuned into the conversation, because you had a soft spot for the woman. She held a drink in her hand, a wine blush already forming, her husband held her hand, trying to pull her to sit back down on the couch. She raised her drink, “I’d like to thank Y/N and Angelique for throwing this party. As the saying goes-” she turned to smile at her husband, an older man that looked equally adorable as his wife, “May we kiss who we please, and please who we kiss.” 

Everyone laughed, raised their cups and drank. 

Angie pulled you into a kiss, it was quick and chaste, but you still felt breathless and entirely in love.

\---------

Most everyone had filtered out by sunset. Angie had prepared for the party to go longer, but between swimming and eating everyone was tired and preparing to go watch the fireworks that would start in an hour or two. 

Still there were lights strung up on the patio that decorated the porch beautifully, reflecting off the pool. You picked up any leftover trash from outside. Everyone had picked up most of their trash, but there was the occasional red solo cup that someone had forgotten. 

Inside Angie was cleaning up the counters and anything leftover, you set a lawn chair that had been forgotten near the entrance. You noticed she had started the record player, listened, then noticed the singer. “You stole my Otis Redding vinyl.” 

She glanced up confused for a moment before answering, “I didn’t steal it.”

“I planned on buying it, and you distracted me by...flirting with me.”

She grinned, “I flirted with you, it just was a happy coincidence that you were distracted enough to forget it.” 

You waved her off and went to change out of your swimsuit, returned to find her sitting on the couch two flutes and a bottle of champagne, you walked to the couch. There was an audible pop, and then she was pouring you a glass. She offered it to you, and you were just excited enough and anxious enough to accept it.

“What’s this for?” 

She took a sip from her flute, sat back against the couch. “To a job well done.”

You clinked the glasses together, drank some, and sat on the opposite end of the couch. 

She sat across from you, elbow on the back of the couch, resting her chin in her hand. The lights casted everything in a warm glow that was reminiscent of firelight. You took another pull of the champagne, then spoke. “I’ll be honest, I was a little nervous about the party.”

“My decorating skills not up to par?” She teased, moving to place her glass on the coffee table.

“I feel anxious when it comes to you and my family being in the same space for a certain amount of time.”

She smirked, “But there’s never anything to worry about.” Her hand dropped to your calf. You took another pull, essentially gulping it.

“Not lately.”

Her hand inched up again until it was just below your knee. Was it warm in here? No, it was just you internally combusting. “I wanted to make it up to you.” She said somewhere between a sigh and a murmur, either way it was seductive.

“You already had,” You said more into the drink, finishing the last swallows.

She took your glass and set it on the table, focus returned to you, and your body flushed pleasantly warm under her gaze.

“About that…” you looked away, “about this.” You clarified. “The breakup I mean.” My god you were terrible at this. But it was a safer subject right now when you felt like one more brush of hands and you would confess your love.

She sighed, “There’s nothing to discuss, we simply part ways and don’t talk about the other.” Her fingers traced upwards.

“When? What about when my family presses me for answers? Or everyone suddenly hates me because they think I cheated on you or something?” You shifted slightly, then noticed that the spring was no longer poking you. When had it been fixed since last night? You hadn’t mentioned it to Angie so how-

Oh. _Oh._

“What if we pushed back the expiration date of the relationship?” Angie asked.

You stared at her. 

She looked away first, her fingers barely brushed up your thigh, expression carefully indifferent. “That way Gladys wouldn’t be embarrassed for making that toast only for us to break up a few days later.”

Angie had a guest bedroom, and there was the necklace, and the fact she had already undone Carolyn’s curse. And last night she used magic to make sleeping on the couch as uncomfortable as possible so that you would go lay down with her. All of it finally fell into place.

“I want you to break the curse.” You said bluntly, feeling a thousand miles away, still wondering, when, how, why.

“Is that your negotiation?” She placed her hands on your legs, leaned forward and smirked.

You wanted to stop overthinking things, instead you focused back on Angie. “I don’t want to keep faking this relationship.”

The amusement in her expression was gone instantly, “I understand.” She said flatly, already pulling away and sitting back on her side of the couch.

“I don’t think you do.” You tried, desperate to make her understand when you barely understood yourself. “It’s not that I don’t want a relationship with you because I do, but not a fake one,” you stood from the couch, started to pace, “-it’s just…I’m in love with you.”

The silence was deafening, you were sure she could hear your heart beating out of your chest. In true Collins fashion you wanted to leave or laugh it or chalk up your actual honest feelings as some stress, anything to distance yourself from this. But you stood your ground and stared at the coffee table. 

Finally, you looked at Angie, you would say she was glaring at you if only because of the intensity of her gaze. She looked like she had when you found her drunk, anger and vulnerability mixed with something close to love. You glanced away first, picked up the empty glasses on the table, “I’ll just rinse these out-”

She stood up, “No.” Her voice suddenly strong and angry against the silence. “You don’t get to say something like that and just walk away.” She took the glasses from you, set them back on the table and pulled you until the back of your knees hit the couch and you fell back onto the couch sitting. 

“Say it again.” The anger was replaced by that teasing edge to her voice that you couldn’t stand right now. Especially not after saying you loved her.

This wasn’t a game, or something to laugh about. You glared up at her, she smiled back as if nothing could ruin the moment. The smile dropped when she realized you were staying purposely quiet.

She straddled you, held your chin so that your focus was solely on her. Her lips curled upwards, her eyebrows raised, in a pointed, _I’m waiting_ look. Patience wasn’t a virtue of hers. You rolled your jaw, sighed resigned. “I love you, but I also hate you right now because you’re just teasing-”

She lunged forward, kissed you hard and demanding. You made a _hmmph_ sound and then you were moaning into the kiss. Her hands pulling you closer and closer, more demanding than you had ever seen her.

But eventually you pulled away, tried to catch your breath as Angie trailed her mouth down your jaw. This was playing with fire, you needed her to undo the curse, before anything else. “I want you to break the curse.”

“I will,” she murmured against your skin.

“Promise?”

She chuckled against your collarbone, “Sweetheart you could ask anything of me, and I’d give it to you in a heartbeat.”

You grinned, kissed her, tried to maneuver her so that you could both lay against the couch, or even better move to the bed. But Angie seemed to be in favor of whatever would keep you against her, because when you shifted forward, she pushed you further into the couch. 

Her hands brushed down your chest, she tried to lift your shirt, but it was harder with her straddling you. It forced you to break the kiss, you laughed, and she huffed frustrated. You opened your mouth to say, _we have all night._

But then you remembered the fireworks display.

“What time is it?” You turned to glance at the clock on the wall, nine-thirty, “Shit.” Angie stared confused, “We have the fireworks display.”

“Fuck the fireworks display, they can go on without us.”

“Angie.”

She leaned closer, her pupils blown so wide, her lipstick smeared, and she looked so fucking pretty. She kissed you slowly, it did nothing but increase the throbbing between your legs. You broke away, “You’re finally on my family’s good side.”

She paused for a moment, then sighed disappointed, and climbed off your lap. “Only because they hold grudges almost as well as I do.”

You laughed. Reminded her it’d only be an hour and then you would have the rest of the night.

\-----------------

Angie parked near the field, the parking lot filled with cars, all faced towards the baseball field which was more or less a large field with a few diamonds for the little league to play on and anyone who wanted to. 

It was dark save for the headlights of cars, and the lights that illuminated the field which were on for now, they’d turn off when the show started, but for now there was a few people playing baseball. Most people had lawn chairs already set out, drinking and laughing.

You caught sight of your family a few cars over, yet you sat next to Angie still. The giddiness that had slowly built up since everything happened still hadn’t stopped.

“I want you to answer a question for me.” You said before you could stop yourself.

She glanced up at you, “Anything.”

“What did you and Barnabas discuss that night?”

She chuckled, hand squeezing your own. “Do you want the honest truth sweetheart?” Her focus was on you, warm hand tilting your head up just slightly, there wasn’t enough of a height difference when you were both sitting.

You didn’t mind, you liked when she touched you, liked when she leaned in close enough that you could smell her perfume. “Please.” 

She sighed, and a smile appeared. “We made a deal, I would leave Barnabas to court Josette—or Victoria, whoever he wanted. And in exchange he’d stop bothering us.”

“If that’s all that happened then why were you so pissed?”

She glanced away, “We did insult each other, and the chances that either of you would fall in love with either of us.” She swallowed, watched a passerby. “But it was when I truly had to face the fact that I cared for you.”

You smiled, because while you knew she liked you, there was a huge difference to her admitting it. 

“I thought that it’d be easier if I could just fuck you and we wouldn’t talk, and I wouldn’t be so obvious.” She said then turned to look at you, teasing smile, undercut by the way she was watching you openly gentle. “Of course, you just had to be the hardest person to seduce in the history of Collinsport, sweetheart.”

You smiled, “I still want you to say it.”

She pursed her lips, grinned, “I love you.”

You kissed her, gentle and chaste because you didn’t want to get turned on right now. Her hands still tried to slide up your shirt, you broke away with a warning glance. She smirked.

Eventually you did leave the car, joined your coworkers and started to help. Passed out sparklers to anyone who wanted one, it was mostly to help distract the kids while the actual fireworks were about to begin. 

Sparklers started to light as you watched the kids wave them around, adults did too. Laughter rang through the air, accompanied by the hiss of the sparklers and chatter of the town. 

A couple of people turned on their car radios, tuned into the same radio station, soon most cars had done the same. It was loud enough that you could hear it even though you were farther out in the field.

The lights turned off, there was a sudden hush over the crowd as everyone prepared for the beginning.

One of your coworkers lit the first, taking off to a safe distance, you watched as it popped, and everyone cheered. Gunpowder and smoke filled the air. Soon more followed. 

Warren and you stood near the pile of fireworks, helping to hand them off as needed. Which is how you noticed a roman candle sitting in the pile of fireworks, you picked it up. “You think we’ll need this?”

Warren shrugged, “Probably not.”

“Good.” You stuffed the Roman candle into the waistband of your shorts, tucked the remainder of the candle into your shirt so it wouldn’t fall out. Warren laughed, but you really wanted to freak Barnabas out tomorrow.

Not long after Warren waved you off to go sit and enjoy the fireworks rather than trying to steal them, you complied. Angie was waiting in the car already, you climbed in, sat next to her and rested your head on her shoulder. Watched the continuous fireworks, smiled because you were really damn lucky.

“Aunt Y/N,” you turned to look at David. Carolyn trailing behind him. “Aunt Liz asked for you to grab the snacks.” He handed you some cash, then listed off the order. 

You smiled and slid out of the car, holding open the car door. As David and Carolyn slid in. “Keep Angie company for me.”

You walked around the car, “Want anything?”

“I wouldn’t mind a milkshake.” She replied, pulling you down by the front of your shirt to kiss you.

It made you a little elated, even lightheaded. You could definitely get used to the feeling. “Strawberry or chocolate?”

“Strawberry.”

You walked away, the last thing you overheard was Carolyn commenting on Angie’s car.

You walked to the concession stand and ordered a frankly ridiculous amount of food. You thanked the teenager working the stand and went off. Stopping by the trash can that was on the side of the stand, to throw away the receipt. And to pocket the change.

Footsteps bounded up to you, and you shifted the popcorn bag to hand it off to David and Carolyn. Suddenly pain blossomed at the back of your head, and you dropped to the ground. Something covered your mouth, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanna come yell in my inbox my tumblr is arewecoolio


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt a lil bad about leaving yall on a cliffhanger, but the comments made me laugh. So here’s the last chapter! If you’ve made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read this through.
> 
> I listened to this (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AqnEWlpESF8) while writing the first half of this chapter because it sets the tone, but also keeps with my ABBA motif, so anyways. Enjoy!

Slowly you started to come to, your head pounding. Hands cuffed behind you. Finally, you opened your eyes to find yourself sitting in a mausoleum, _how fitting._ It wasn’t exactly how you thought you would be spending the night. Maybe the handcuffs. Not a mausoleum. And definitely not some random guy sitting casually on top of a stone coffin.

He glanced over, “Oh good, you’re awake.”

“Yeah, so nice to be here.” You said, your head still throbbing from where he had hit you, you guessed. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

“You don’t know?”

You shook your head, “Am I supposed to?”

He waved it off, “It doesn’t matter.”

Silence engulfed the two of you, and you really kind of needed information as to why this dude kidnapped you but seemed disinterested in basically all of this. At the risk of pissing him off you spoke, “So do you wanna monologue to me?”

He turned to you, “I’m sorry?”

There was a vague familiarity the longer you looked at him, still you tried. “Monologue? You know explain why you did this, your motive, I mean I’m your captive audience so…” You shrugged.

“My girlfriend needs you in exchange for turning me.” 

“Your girlfriend?”

“Eileen.”

“Oh.” 

Fuck, fuck, _fuck._

You cleared your throat, “When did you two get together?”

“A few months ago.”

You realized where you had seen him; in bed with Eileen.

She probably recruited him into this somehow, you doubted he was a vampire or anything supernatural, the necklace hadn’t done anything to stop him. You guessed that’s what she was using him for. “She’s using you to get to me, you know, that right?” It sounded exactly like something Barnabas would say and you hated how egotistical it sounded.

He glared at you, “We’re in love.”

You shook your head, sighed. “If you’re in love then why does she need me here?”

He opened his mouth, closed it. Paused, before finally answering, “She said you’re needed for the transformation, I’m guessing she turns me and then we feed on you,” He shrugged, “I don’t really know.”

“She didn’t need me to turn any of the others.”

His head swiveled to look at you, “How do you know about the others?”

You hadn’t until he just confirmed it, still you shrugged. “She mentioned her gang to me weeks ago…”

He sulked, murmured. “Well there’s only four other people so it’s not like it’s an actual gang.”

_God bless his obliviousness._

“So, we’re waiting for her to show up?” You asked, in favor of ignoring the information.

He nodded.

“Cool, cool, cool.” You sighed, leaned against the wall of the place, and finally looked around. 

Old and desolate, and exactly like your nightmares. You realized with dawning horror that it _was_ from your nightmares. Some rational part of your brain wondered if that’s why your ancestors had brought you here in preparation for this. That same part of your brain kicked into solution mode, rationalizing that there was the possibility the mausoleum belonged to your family.

If the mausoleum was on the property, it meant you were in the general area of the house. Which meant you simply needed to get to the house, and you would be safe. There was the whole problem of not knowing where the house was or in what direction. But it was better than waiting until Eileen came to kill you.

There was a very distant sound of a firework, you listened carefully. Another firework followed it. The baseball fields weren’t that far from Collinswood. But how long had you been out? Minutes? Hours? 

You would need to escape regardless.

“My head really hurts,” You muttered, “What did you even hit me with?”

He lifted a gun.

You winced, swallowed, “Did you hit the lambdoid suture?”

He didn’t look like a doctor or like he had taken anything more than high school biology, he stood, “I don’t know.”

Meanwhile you worked alongside paramedics practically every day. You sat forward, “If you hit it just right there might be hemorrhaging.”

“No offense but if you’re dying soon then why-”

“Because if I’m bleeding internally it’s a slow painful death for me rather than a quick one, and it means less blood for the two of you.” You sat up straighter, “Is there an odd bump on the back of my head?”

He moved closer, kneeled in front of you and felt the back of your head. You took a deep breath, then lunged forward headbutted him and he fell, you stood, kicked him hard and ran. Slammed your shoulder into the mausoleum door, and suddenly were outside.

It was warm and dark and a perfect summer night if not for a shadow barreling towards you. As he ran closer, you noticed him hissing with a mouth full of fangs. The necklace burned against your skin and the man screamed in pain, falling to the ground. 

Woods surrounded you save for a dirt path that looked older than you. Headlights came into view and you ran blindly into the safety and shadow of the trees and hoped it protected you enough. The cuffs dug into your wrists hard enough to sting, and it didn’t help your balance whatsoever as you ran. Behind you, you could hear yelling and make out Eileen’s voice. You kept running.

There were so many trees, which helped but also hindered you, because it was dark, and you had no idea where you were going. Or where you were. Your foot caught on a branch and sent you sprawling, landing hard against the ground. The air knocked out of you, you laid there for a moment, breathing hard.

Wind picked up and you heard that whispering that sent chills up your spine, but this wasn’t a dream or a nightmare. Regardless you stood and followed the sound, because it was the most familiar thing here. You picked up your pace when you caught the sound of distant talking, and the necklace warmed your skin.

Kept pushing, finally stumbling out into a clearing. You were surprised to find you recognized it, the clearing and there a hundred feet in front of you the cliff. Eileen had been stupid enough to take you onto your own property. 

You kept moving, you neared the cliff and consequently the trail that would lead back to the house and then you heard it. “You need to stop running.” Eileen said behind you.

You turned. Felt nauseous. Hoping that the necklace somehow activated. Something. Anything. “Fuck off.” There was the vampire you had hurt, the guy who had kidnapped you, and Eileen at the forefront.

She laughed, “You’re really starting to piss me off.” Took a step forward. 

You backed away, towards the cliff. You neared the edge of the cliff, “You’re not going to survive this.” Even if you didn’t either you knew Angie or your family would see to Eileen’s death.

“Is Angelique going to come and scare me away?”

“You’re really stupid, aren’t you?” There was a clap like thunder that shook the ground, the wind picked up. You grinned cruelly, “She’s here.” The necklace vibrated against your skin; the handcuff chain broke apart.

Both men backed away, Eileen even looked apprehensive. A distant pained scream rang through the air. “Let me go, and I’m sure we can fix this.” You said calmly.

Eileen’s resolve wasn’t as shaken as you hoped, “I’m not changing my mind.” 

You backed away again, your foot kicking a pebble off the cliff. 

She moved closer, “I know you won’t jump.”

You held the necklace in your fist, “I won’t.” 

But a curse that had been intact for nearly two-hundred years wasn’t something to trifle with, the dirt under you crumbled. The ground fell out from under both of you, and you hoped that the necklace was steeped in something stronger than anger.

You shut your eyes; wind rushed against you. Your stomach twisted, pressure pushed against you, and suddenly you felt the ground. 

You opened your eyes to find yourself sitting near the edge of the cliff, somehow back to safety. Both men were too focused on looking down at the cliff and Eileen to bother with you. Scrambled to your feet, ran towards the house, the fall wouldn’t kill her, but it would stun her for a bit. Enough time to get home. 

Fireworks popped in the distance. Your feet pounded against the ground. You just needed to get into the house. Just into the house.

Though you already knew where you were going, still the whispering continued in the direction of the house. The woods started to look more familiar and before you knew it you could make out Collinswood. Suddenly you felt a warmth spread through you, somehow you knew it was Angie, or something pertaining to her magic. 

Then you tripped over nothing, and god damn this curse, and this fucking darkness, and fuck all of it. You moved your foot trying to undo the branch. 

Another firework popped above, and the light illuminated the branch that was slowly twisting up your leg to trap you. Movement in the corner of your eye made you turn to look at a woman, fangs prominent. She grinned. Darkness swallowed you both again.

The necklace was hot against you, she screamed, the branch suddenly let go of your foot. You stood and kept running, not wanting to know what the necklace did to her. Your lungs burned and legs ached, but you kept running.

You ran into something solid yet soft, a person. “Do not fear.” Barnabas said.

You sighed relieved. He walked behind you, “Do you have any reservations about me running you back to Collinswood?”

“None, who’s all there?”

“Angelique and Elizabeth.” He cleared his throat, “We need to return quickly, considering Angelique is on a warpath to get you back.” As if to prove it there was another distant pained scream that didn't sound like it belonged to either Angie or Liz. He gently placed an arm around you to support you, then moved.

Your feet hit stone soon enough, the motion sickness passed quickly. The two of you made your way towards the front of the house, where Angie stood. She turned and you noticed the fire in her eyes, her expression dark and terrifying. You stumbled back for a second, caught off guard.

But the anger passed, her expression shifted to relief. She stepped over two bodies, who you were assuming were part of Eileen’s recently turned vampire gang. “Are you hurt?” She took your hands in hers, noticed the handcuffs still around your wrists and the anger flickered back again.

The cuffs made a metallic clink as they hit the ground, and then she was hugging you. Her grip on you tightened to the point of bruising, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, because you were alive, and Angie was holding you and you were both okay for now. Barnabas cleared his throat awkwardly.

You pulled away, “You need to break the curse.”

She glanced over you, that anger still not gone. “I need to break some bones.” She muttered, then softened, “Go inside.”

“No, not without you.”

“I can handle myself, sweetheart.” She gave you a gentle push, “Go inside.”

“She’s only going to come if she thinks I’m alone.” You murmured. “The curse is helping her. I nearly fell off the cliff because of it. It knows it doesn’t have long.”

“I’ll deal with her first and then the curse.”

The whispering only increased. Your stomach turned, you pulled her towards the door. 

Suddenly a stone statue crashed where the two of you had been standing seconds before. You jumped, she stared at it wide-eyed. "You were saying?" She turned back to you, a little more receptive now.

"The curse nearly killed me before Eileen even got the chance."

She weighed her options, "Do you know how many people are left?"

"Four I think."

You could practically see the gears turning in her head as she weighed her options.

Barnabas and she shared a look, something that you weren’t privy too, they had a long-complicated history, you didn’t need to know whatever it was. 

Finally, she glanced back at you, she nodded, “Okay, we’re breaking the curse.” Then helped you inside.

She locked the doors behind you, a gun cocked. You glanced at the staircase to see Liz holding a shotgun, she lowered it when she saw it was you. Next thing you knew she was throwing her arms around you, “You’re okay.” 

You squeezed her back, blinked away some tears. “We have to keep going.”

She pulled away, “They’re not dead yet?”

Angie started walking to the kitchen, the three of you followed behind. You spoke quickly hoping to get them up to speed, “I’ve been having nightmares again lately, they started when Angie and I started dating. Apparently, the things that have been haunting me are our ancestors that were killed from the curse.” 

Liz took the information in stride, “What did they say?”

“Warning me at first about dating Angie, then about needing to break the curse, and a little about Eileen.”

The three of you were in the kitchen now, all the lights still off, Angie searched through the pantry and fridge.

“Did they say how to break the curse?” 

“Their only solution was for me to kill Angie,” Angie paused glanced at you, but said nothing, then continued grabbing things and placing them on the counter. “But they also said I was going to die weeks ago, so they’re not always right.”

Angie finally set one of Willie’s large pots on the counter, scooped up all of the random things and threw them in there. “This will have to do.”

Then she walked out, leaving the three of you to follow again. “Is the curse that easily broken by simple pantry ingredients?” Barnabas asked.

Angie shrugged, “I created it with a lock of hair and a few herbs, the ingredients aren’t the problem, the real problem is the amount of focus it’ll take.” She turned more corners until you were in the old wing again, “When I do this, nearly all of my magic will be focused on this specific thing which means-”

“The barrier will be down.”

She nodded, “It’s risky, but so is leaving you in the house that the curse was created in.” She stopped at a wall, then walked through it, the rest of you followed hesitantly. Inside was a stone room. It looked abandoned and old, a table pushed to the side, a few bottles leftover with liquid that looked poisonous. Angie barely spared a glance as she set the pot in the middle of the room, waved her hand and candles lit. “If there’s any place stronger for the curse, it’s within these walls.”

“But the only safe place from my psycho ex is also within these walls, so it’s a lose-lose scenario right now.”

Barnabas stopped glancing around the room to focus on Angie, “So when the curse is broken, does that mean I will revert back to my human self?”

Angie paused momentarily, looked almost sympathetic, then shook her head, “No.”

He sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly. “I understand, I suppose it’s better to have my superhuman strength now more than ever.”

Barnabas and Liz started to make plans on how best to defend the house, they would wait downstairs and give Angie as much time as possible, and when they needed to, they could retreat via secret tunnels throughout the house. You never truly appreciated your family’s dedication to having things like secret tunnels and secret rooms until now.

As they started to leave you stopped, “Angie, are you going to need something like blood or a lock of hair for this?”

She glanced up, “Blood would work better.”

You nodded towards Liz, “Will you do it?”

She seemed confused but agreed, nonetheless. You didn’t want to have to explain that your ancestors' reminder of being, _the first bastard child of our line,_ was still on your mind. That didn’t bother you, but the possibility that the curse might not be broken because you were an illegitimate Collins wasn’t appealing. Especially with your life on the line.

“I’m gonna go grab something.” You said leaving Liz and Angie to do what they needed to, Barnabas followed behind. You walked around a few corners, down a few steps until you pushed the door open to the tearoom. 

Barnabas followed behind, slight recognition in his eyes. “Forgive me for this, but you mentioned your nightmares feature those of our family who have passed,” He glanced around the room, eyes landing on the portrait of his parents. “Have you spoken with them?”

“I have.” You weren’t going to say that most of the ones you interacted with were assholes, and his father tended to be an asshole more often than not. His mother seemed nice enough, but they both were a little too judgmental for you.

He looked at you hopeful, “Did they speak of me?”

“A few times.”

There were footsteps above you, and you realized why your ancestors had a fixation with this room. Directly above this room was where the curse had taken place. The whispering had been tuned out for the most part, but now you focused on it. Closed your eyes and took a deep breath, focused closer on the whispering until it sounded like people talking.

When you opened your eyes, there were people milling about talking excitedly. It was odd, even now as you glanced at the room if you focused you could see through your ancestors. The room itself was clean and dazzling, it looked how you imagined it probably did when it was still new. If you concentrated hard enough though, you could see the old room under the shiny mirage of an age past. Barnabas looked around shocked and excited, and you realized he could see them too. Soon everyone noticed you and Barnabas, there were a few different cheers, people raised their glasses to you, and you wondered where they got the alcohol. 

It occurred to you that they had semi-control over whatever plane of reality this was, and that they had the option to be in a clean luxurious room, but they chose the other for the aesthetic. Stupidity and a flare for the dramatic ran in the family apparently.

Finally, you managed to catch someone by the arm, 

“What are you all doing?” You asked.

Edward grinned, “We’re celebrating, this is all nearly over.” He slung his arm around you affectionately, “You did it.”

“Yeah, well, there’s still the whole possibility of dying hanging over my head.” 

He nodded, “I wouldn’t worry too much about that. We haven’t ignored our responsibilities completely.” Then downed his whiskey.

_Could ghosts get drunk?_ Problem for a different day, you reasoned, Edward left to go talk with someone and you stood near Barnabas. Joshua parted through the crowd, you spoke first, Barnabas could have his reunion after this. “The curse is nearly broken, but I still need your help when it comes to not dying.”

His eyes lingered on Barnabas, before he stared at you, “We will try.”

“Try your damndest, you owe me at least that.”

Joshua tilted his head in agreement, “We will. However, the curse presents obstacles, especially when it comes to you.”

You stared at him confused, he spoke, “The curse has been focused on you lately; did you truly believe it was your own misfortune that your ex-lover is so mentally unhinged?”

“I mean, yeah.”

He shook his head, “Our family has a penchant for attracting the unstable ones since the curse was enacted.” He side-eyed Barnabas good-naturedly.

You let them have their reunion, overturning the armchair and kicking at the legs until each one was broken, and you had four makeshift stakes. Finally finished you glanced up to see Barnabas break apart from a hug with his parents. He smiled, said something and then turned back to you.

“You ready?” You asked.

He nodded, “As prepared as I will ever be.”

As you left the room, the figures dissolved behind you. There was the distinct sound of glass breaking from somewhere downstairs. You remembered suddenly that there was one specific person who could pass through the barrier. “There’s one human with them.” You said, then winced. “Shit.” 

Barnabas nodded, “They will be taken care of.” Then disappeared down the hall.

You returned to the hidden room, Angie and Liz discussing something. As you walked in there was a sudden scream from downstairs. Both looked alarmed, you waved them off. “Forgot there was a normal guy in their group who could pass through the barriers. Barnabas is just dealing with him.”

They both visibly relaxed.

After handing two stakes to Liz, she left to join Barnabas downstairs, Angie continued to flit about adding ingredients. You stood there awkwardly, your hands clasped together and spoke, “Are you going to be okay?”

She glanced up, “I’ll be fine, I’m more worried about you.”

“I’ll have Liz and Barnabas with me.”

She looked back at the cauldron. “You’re not going down there.”

You stopped, “Yes I am.”

“Elizabeth and I both agreed that it would be safer for you here with me.”

“It’s not safe for Liz, Barnabas can handle himself, but-”

“Your sister has a shotgun.”

“Which is useless against vampires.”

She pursed her lips, focused back on the pot now steaming. "Out of all of us Eileen is focused on you," she swallowed, gaze flickering over to you. "Which means you need to be here."

You exhaled slowly, "I'll live, and even if I don't-"

She stared at you, "You will."

You smiled, tried again, "Even if I don’t and she turns me, you can turn me back."

She sighed, "It's a painful process, sweetheart. Not everyone turns back."

The smile dropped, and you were considering what that truly meant. There was a pause before you stood taller, took in a shaky breath. “But I need to be there for my sister, if nothing else.”

She watched you, you knew she couldn’t stop you even if she wanted to at this point. As soon as she started to break the curse her magic would be focused elsewhere, and she would be too focused to stop you from going down there to help. But you still wanted her to agree regardless. Finally, she looked away, glanced down at the steaming pot, “Okay.”

You smiled.

The steam turned purple, she moved quickly, “It’s starting.”

With a final spare glance at Angie, you left to join Liz and Barnabas downstairs.

Halfway there, the house shook, you gripped the wall and waited for it to pass. It did. But in its place came the sounds of glass breaking. You ran down the stairs, nearly tripping but never actually falling.

Gunshots rang loud and clear.

Another tremor shook the place as you rounded the corner, barely ducking in time when a man flew overhead and crashed into the wall behind you. Barnabas walked by quickly, though he gave you a small smile. “Good to see you’ve joined us.”

Barnabas seemed to have a handle on what he was doing, you were more concerned for Liz. She was slowly being backed to the staircase.

Liz continuously fired the gun at the vampire while it seemed to be having very little effect on her, the woman stalked closer. You ran towards her, as soon as the woman was in arm’s reach of your sister, Liz moved lightning quick and stabbed her through the heart.

Liz tried to catch her breath, then glared at you. “You’re supposed to be upstairs.”

“I’m not letting you get hurt.”

She shook her head, “Same goes for you.” 

Suddenly Barnabas was thrown back into the room, crashing to the floor painfully. Liz aimed her gun as the vampire entered the room. Barnabas stood and you hadn’t given either enough credit. But this one didn’t seem as easy as the previous one, he seemed to know how to fight.

Barnabas didn’t. Having only relied on superhuman strength for the most part.

Liz shot and reloaded her gun, and you were already planning best on how to stab the man when a sudden coldness swept over you.

The whispering became a yell, sudden motion sickness earlier came back with a vengeance. Someone was moving you with the speed that Barnabas had. Then you were standing outside of Collinswood, Eileen holding you. “I know you hate me right now, but you just don’t understand.” She brushed hair out of your face, you felt nauseous. 

You swayed dangerously, she steadied you. Kept speaking, ranting, “We’re going to get out of town, and out of the state, I have a friend who can help us.”

Finally, you focused back on the moment, too perceptive to the point it almost terrified you. Her hands cold on your shoulders, the almost maniac edge to her voice, the chill up your spine. Your hands found the stake that was in the waistband of your pants. 

Almost in slow motion, you saw yourself pull the stake, and aim it for her heart. Like a rubber band time snapped back to a normal speed. She suddenly gripped your wrist. You winced. The stake fell out of your grasp. All of that anger directed to you now, you stared back, and made peace with your death.

“Why are you acting like this?” She seethed. 

The whispering stopped, everything became dead silent except for Eileen’s breathing and yours. Goosebumps rose along your arm and Eileen stopped, noticing the shift in the atmosphere. 

Something pulled you back from Eileen, you nearly fell but it steadied you. It felt like multiple hands, there was the overpowering feeling like the air was charged. Eileen was pulled away by the back of her shirt. Joshua appeared, as did most of your ancestors. There were a few holding her down while a few held you back. Joshua stood above her. “Here is your final chance madam.”

She spit at him, which simply passed through him, he still grimaced regardless. Glanced at you with a, _this is who you chose as a lover,_ look. You shrugged.

Eileen stood easily, glared at him and attempted to rip his throat out. Her hand passed through him easily, she backed away. He stared back expectantly, you realized they were waiting for something, and you could feel the almost imperceptible shift.

The air crackled with something like static, your ancestors seemed to become solid for a moment, _real._ Like a lightbulb burning out, as soon as they became real, they phased back out completely. And you two were alone again.

You realized then when you moved that one of your ancestors had placed the stake back into your hand. You smiled to yourself. Eileen stood up, huffed, “Are you like some type of magnet for the fucking weird?”

“I mean you won’t leave me alone, so I’m probably more like a magnet for the fucking stupid.”

She glared at you, you smiled back. Before either of you made another move, something hit the front door hard enough for the hinges to break. The door hit the ground, and you realized that it wasn’t something, it was the vampire guy Barnabas and Liz had been fighting. 

Angie walked out of the door, stepping over the man as if he was inconsequential. Her focus was on Eileen instantly, the necklace started to warm against your skin again. Eileen froze when Angie lifted her hand, Angie’s calm demeanor betrayed only by her expression; rage and wrath. 

You weren’t a murderer, nor a killer. But fate seemed determined to make you one. 

You tightened your hold on the stake, moved quickly and with all your strength ran through Eileen. Her body gave under the stake before it hit something hard. You scrambled away, gagging. Turned your back and tried to steady your trembling hands.

Eileen’s body fell to the ground with a thud, you didn’t look, just stared straight ahead and tried not to think about it. Your heart was racing adrenaline still pumping through you. A hand rested on your shoulder, you flinched away, turned quickly and Angie was standing there. 

She pulled you into a hug, you let yourself lean against her, but you didn’t cry. You were sure you would eventually, but everything was too fresh and new for you to process it. And then you suddenly pulled away, “Liz and Barnabas?”

“We’re here.” Liz answered, Barnabas following behind, you noticed he had a fork sticking out of his abdomen. 

“Yes, slightly stabbed and lightly bruised, but alive.” Barnabas offered, pulled the fork out with little more than a grimace and tossed it to the side. 

You sighed, relaxed back into Angie’s embrace. The two of you stood there as Liz and Barnabas walked over, your gaze lingering on one of the corpses. Everyone stood there for a moment, fireworks still popping in the distance, Liz was the first to speak. “I’m going to grab some shovels.”

\-------

Other families had things that bonded them, whether it be family game night, or dinner together, some normal and completely mundane thing they could bond over. Of course, your quality family bonding time translated to digging a grave on the fourth of July as fireworks continued to pop in the distance. 

Everyone did their part in digging the grave, which was farther in on the property, and by the end of it you were all sweaty and covered in dirt. Unceremoniously Angie waved her hand, lifted the corpse that you refused to think of as Eileen, and dropped it into the hole. 

Which began the process of putting the dirt back. You dropped the last pile back onto the grave, sighed, and looked back at everyone. Your breathing was still uneven when you said, “We still have five more graves to dig.”

Everyone groaned. You leaned on the shovel, “Where is everyone by the way?”

“Angie’s,” Liz answered.

You glanced at Angie questioningly.

She shrugged, avoiding your gaze, “I offered for them to sleep at my house, until we found you and we knew it was safe, there are barriers and I assumed-”

You moved quickly, cut her off with a kiss. Pulled away because you were still aware of Barnabas and Liz standing there. “I’m guessing we’re staying the night over there?”

“If it’s alright with Angie that would be perfect. We can explain everything in the morning and start working on the rest of the graves.” Liz said, finally seeming to relax. 

Angie nodded, looking at you, “Of course, you’re staying the night.”

\----------

You returned to Angie’s, quietly the four of you slipped into the house, “Are there enough guest bedrooms?” You murmured to Angie.

She blushed, smiled almost embarrassed at being caught in a lie, “Down the hall, there should be enough rooms for everyone.” Liz and Barnabas disappeared down the left hall, Angie took your hand and pulled you to her bedroom. You took a shower and she laid out some pajamas, then she took a shower and you returned the favor by doing the same.

By the time you both were in bed it was three in the morning. You sighed, moved to lay against Angie, and fell promptly asleep. 

\----------

You sat at the dining table in Collinswood, it was lunch, or dinner, you couldn’t tell. Angie sat next to you, your family taking up the rest of the seats around you. Everyone was discussing their own things, you sat there, staring at everyone with a degree of confusion. It was happy, oddly so, Angie seemed to be the only one who noticed your apprehension.

She held your hand, leaned close enough to whisper lowly, “Is everything alright, sweetheart?”

You turned to her, she squeezed your hand reassuringly, and your gaze landed on something shiny. There was a ring on her hand, then you noticed the one on your hand. Dawning realization of what that entailed followed, before you glanced up at her adorably concerned expression. 

“Perfect.” You smiled; she didn’t seem convinced. “Absolutely perfect.” Then kissed her. Someone cleared their throat, you pulled away, offered a sheepish smile to your sister who stared at you in semi-disgust, semi-amusement.

Conversation started about business, and you listened half-heartedly, still too focused on the ring. Still too focused on the fact that Angie had one too.

**\---------**

When you woke the next morning, you laid there for a solid minute and tried to remember everything from the dream, because it was the first time you could associate a dream as something pleasant. 

Not only pleasant, but an aspiration. You turned to Angie, realized she wasn’t in bed. Slowly you got out of bed, your body reminding you just what had happened last night. At this point you should’ve been accustomed to sore muscles. Even that couldn’t ruin your mood.

As you left the bedroom, the smell of coffee hit you full force, along with voices from the kitchen. You walked down the hall to find your family awake, Angie talking with Julia about something. Carolyn and David were sitting on the couch watching some show, everyone else was either sitting at the breakfast table, or refilling their coffee, or in Willie’s case frying eggs.

You took a seat at the table without much fanfare, sitting next to Angie, who took your hand instinctively, your mind jumped back to the dream, your face felt warm. Willie finished cooking and plates were passed out, Julia was the first to break the silence. “So, what happened?”

Everyone looked at you expectantly, you paused mid-chew, swallowed. You glossed over the kidnapping and waking up in the mausoleum, and let Barnabas and Liz take turns recounting last night from their perspectives. Angie held your hand and slowly sipped at her coffee.

“-And we still need to clean up the mess.” Liz said, sinking back into her coffee.

“I’ve taken care of it.” Angie hummed.

Everyone stopped momentarily, before Barnabas asked. “...How?”

A lazy smile graced her lips, “I had someone take care of it, and there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Promise?” You spoke up.

She looked at you, “I promise.”

Which was good enough for everyone else, a collective sigh sounded around the table because no one seemed excited about digging more graves.

“I will need to go into the office today, just for a quick thing.” She said, you watched as she cut her toast into triangles, “But everyone is welcome to stay as long as you need.”

Angie finished her breakfast and went to change, you sat there for a few minutes before following to go change. Walked into the bedroom, she was finished dressing and was already fixing her hair. “Do you want to come with me?” She asked, checking over herself in the mirror. 

“And join you in your probably illegal rendezvous? Of course.”

And then you changed, ignored Angie’s shameless staring. Finished getting ready and were off.

She drove, and you sat next to her, “You know you’ll have to kick my family out soon, otherwise they’ll never leave.”

She smiled, “Does that mean you won’t either?”

You smiled, rolled your eyes, and dropped the subject. It occurred to you then how normal this all felt, even now that you two were officially together there was no sudden contrast.

\--------------------

Gladys wasn’t at her desk and you suspected she probably took the day off to deal with the headache she probably had.

You took a seat on her futon, Angie stopped near her desk momentarily, then moved to sit next to you on the futon. She sat close enough to you, that she was practically in your lap, you smiled. “You’re not subtle.”

She smirked, “Who said I was trying to be.” She adjusted so that her leg was over yours and that she wasn’t sitting in your lap but was still touching you. And then you waited, for what you weren’t sure. 

A few minutes passed, and there was a knock and Angie said, “Come in.”

Gladys walked in, holding a sheet of paper. She offered a tired smile when noticing the two of you, handed the paper to Angie. “Everything’s cleaned up.”

“The bodies?”

“Sent to different mortuaries in different counties.”

Angie read over the paper; you didn’t bother to look over it. Gladys glanced at you, expression turning gentle, “How have you been holding up?”

“Tired, but I’m doing better.”

She nodded, “That’s good, I’m happy to see you’re okay.”

Angie finished reading whatever and handed it back to Gladys. “Thank you for your help.”

“It’s no problem.” She folded the paper up, “The only thing we might have to be wary of is the press.”

“I have a friend who could let me know if anything comes up.” You said, thinking back to Lara. Already planning your excuse, something about wanting to keep an eye out for if Eileen ever came back to town. 

Angie glanced at you and smiled proudly, Gladys spoke, “Well I won’t bother you two anymore.”

“Don’t forget to take the day off.” Angie called as Gladys waved her off, walking out of the office.

There was a pause after the door shut, before you turned to Angie and asked. “How much does she know?”

“Honestly? No idea. She knows enough to get me incarcerated, but she’s also my most loyal employee and friend. I wouldn’t put it past her to know about all the supernatural things though.”

“She knew I was kidnapped?”

Angie nodded, “I called her early this morning to explain everything because I knew she could take care of it. Her husband is the medical examiner for a few different counties, and this isn’t the first time I’ve had to call them because of a body.”

You gave an eloquent. “Huh.”

\-----------

When you arrived back at Angie’s house, you noticed the station wagon gone. Inside the house, the dishes were washed, and the house back to a semblance of normal, blankets folded back on the couch, a note on the counter in Liz’s handwriting that read. 

_Thank you for letting us stay the night, and for taking care of the less desirable things as well - Elizabeth_

Angie took the note, you smiled then yawned. Four hours was too little sleep. You stretched, “I need a nap.” Then walked into the bedroom, kicked off your shoes, shimmied out of your pants, took off your bra. Climbed into bed and pulled the blanket up high.

Just as you were getting settled and comfortable, Angie walked in. She followed suit, climbing into bed and moving until she was against you. 

“Has anyone told you, you’re very cute when you’re tired?” She murmured, pressing a kiss against your cheek.

“No, but I suspect you’re about to.”

She hummed out in agreement, kissing you again. You parted, sighed. She leaned down again, kissed you and lingered longer, pressed against you firmer than before. She finally pulled away, “I think we should pick up where we left off last night.”

You laughed, pushed her off you. “I’m tired.”

She pouted, pulled you against her and wrapped her arm around your waist. “I think you just like making me wait.”

You smiled, “Maybe that too.”

\-------------

When you woke from your nap, the sunlight shone through the window lower than before, you guessed it was somewhere around early evening. Angie wasn’t in bed with you.

Slowly you got out of bed and walked out of the room. Angie was standing in the kitchen making a list. “What are you doing?” You asked, then stretched.

“Figuring out our plans for dinner.” She glanced up and smiled all soft edges.

You walked over, hugging her from behind and resting your head against her shoulder blade, still half-asleep. She spoke, and you could feel the vibrations from it. “Would you rather have something delivered, go out to eat, or cook something here?”

“I don’t want to go out.” You muttered.

“Why not?”

You smiled, stated matter-of-factly, “Because now we’re alone.” She shifted barely, at those words. You grinned and pulled away to go look through the fridge. Not bothering to glance at her as you listed off what was in the fridge.

Finally, you decided on something simple. There were still plenty of leftovers from the party, and you reheated what you wanted. 

You went about eating dinner and ignoring the way Angie was staring at you. It was stupid, but you enjoyed it, nonetheless. This teasing, that you pretended not to be aware of. You sat across from her at the table, taking your time to cut your food and slowly eat. 

She was staring openly at your mouth not bothering to hide it, you suppressed a smile and wanted to see how far you could push her. The next bite you let out a small appreciative moan, commenting on how the good the food was. You pretended not to notice the tick in her jaw or the white-knuckle grip she had on her fork. 

Suddenly your cup overturned, spilled onto your lap, though there was no obvious reason for that to happen, your hands hadn’t been near it, the table hadn’t moved. Water spilled on you regardless, Angie stood slowly, “Oh sweetheart, let me help.” 

She sauntered, leaned over you, dabbed at the wet spots of your clothing with a paper towel. Since taking a nap, you hadn’t bothered to put pants on, and the thin layer of fabric that covered you, did nothing to help when she almost brushed against where you wanted her most. _This wasn’t fair whatsoever._

She smirked when you looked up at her, only a few inches distancing the two of you. Your face felt hot, and you were already planning best how to get back at her. “You’re practically soaked.” She tsked, pressed against your clothed cunt, you shivered. She grinned.

She finished, placed the napkin back on the table, and returned to her seat. It was stupid, you could just fuck now and stop this teasing, but you enjoyed this far too much. Angie had been right, you liked to see her equally as desperate.

Dinner finished quickly enough, or maybe you were far too focused on Angie to bother too much with food. You remained as purposely oblivious as you tried to clear the plates. _Tried,_ being the operative word. Because as soon as you neared Angie, lifted her empty plate barely she took the plates from you, set them down harshly against the table and pulled you down to kiss her.

It took a moment for you to register her mouth on yours, but as soon as you did you were kissing back. She stood, you tried to break the kiss to make it easier for her, but she fisted your shirt and pulled you back to her. Ever determined for your attention to be on her, and only her.

You huffed a laugh and she shushed you with another kiss. Pushed you and blindly led you down the hall until you blindly grabbed for the doorknob and then you were in her bedroom. She pulled at your shirt, huffing when it didn’t come off as quickly as she wanted. There was a tearing sound and she pulled away finally to look at you. 

It occurred to you then that she had literally ripped the shirt off you, you planned to tease her about how eager she was. She pushed you back against the bed, your knees buckled, and you were sprawled across the bed. “I’ll buy you a new one.” She supplied, dropping the shirt on the floor. 

She straddled you, pinned your hands above your head with one hand, the other brushed along the curve of your jaw. “Is this okay?” She rasped softly. 

You shivered against the warmth of her breath and the coldness of the room. “More than perfect.”

“Tell me if I do something you don’t like.” She murmured, leaned down and kissed you, slow but then it became more demanding. 

She left your hands above your head and when you tried to move them, you realized she had pinned them using magic, your breathing became uneven, she smirked. Kissed you, possessively. Fast and frantic, like this was her only chance.

Her mouth trailed down your chest, stopping to lavish attention to your breasts. Then continued leaving hickies anywhere she deemed worthy. Which was everywhere.

Occasionally alternating between leaving harsher nips along your skin instead of already purpling splotches.

Her breath fanned across the plain of your stomach before she left a harsh bite just above the waistband of your underwear. Her fingers absentmindedly lightly scratching down your sides. You arched away from the sensation. She looked up, repeated the same scratching motion, you laughed abruptly, arched away. You huffed, "That's not fair."

She smiled, husked, "Sweetheart, I've never played fair." One of her hands left its place on your side, to brush down your slit, over your underwear. Barely any pressure, but enough that still made you buck your hips towards it. Needing _more._

She pushed your hips back against the bed, kissed you hard. Hands palming at your breasts-

Suddenly there was a vibrator against your clit, you broke the kiss with a gasp. Angie smiled, kissed your temple, and you realized hazily that Angie’s hands were still on your breasts, realized the sensation was her magic and your breath caught in your throat.

“You can get louder than that, can’t you?” Angie purred. She smiled when you stubbornly stared at her. She raised her eyebrows expectantly, the vibrations increased tenfold. Slowly she slid your underwear off your legs, then focused back on your expression.

You wanted her to fuck you herself, not this degree of separation between the two of you. Or anymore of this teasing, so you clenched your jaw, stared at the ceiling and tried to not focus on the pleasure. It helped that you weren’t usually very loud during sex, you set your plan into motion.

Which lasted maybe a minute before you were attempting to grind against the sensation between your legs. But still you kept quiet even then, and Angie wouldn’t have it. She pushed your legs apart, slid two fingers into you easily. She gave you a smug smile, “Sweetheart, I’ve barely touched you and you’re already this wet?” She thrusted in shallowly. 

You inhaled sharply, trembled.

She kissed you hard, started to thrust in earnestly and you moaned. You felt her smile against your lips. She pulled back just enough to watch you, and it was everything; the way her smirk tapered off into a gentle smile, her fingers in you, the absolute love you felt for this woman. “Tell me you’re mine.” She murmured.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out, just a sharp inhale, followed by a sigh. Your mind dazed, you weren’t entirely sure if she had said it, or you thought you heard it. Her mouth formed into a hard line, she held your chin with her other hand, watched your expression. “Sweetheart, who do you belong to?”

You swallowed, “You.”

She curled her fingers upwards, you arched and whimpered, she smiled. Did it again and again until you felt the tension so close to breaking. You moaned again, she thrusted harder and then you were boneless. 

Slowly she worked you down, your hands released from the invisible bonds. You watched as she lifted her slick-covered fingers innocently into her mouth, a hushed whine escaped from your lips. 

Angie grinned.

She moved closer to you wrapping her arm gently around you, but you weren’t finished yet. You rolled to straddle her; her surprise gave away to delight. 

It wasn’t fast when you kissed her, it was deliberate and soft, but firm. There had never been a time when you could fully appreciate kissing Angie without pushing boundaries or letting your feelings be known, except for this.

And you were going to appreciate every moment of it. 

You pulled at her shirt, she complied, sat up and pulled it off, you moved back so you could slide her panties off. For a moment you looked at her, before she pulled you down and into a more demanding rougher kiss. 

You finally broke apart, gently pushing her against the bed, you grinned, “Can I just look at you for a second?”

She pouted but stayed still and god it was so cute. You traced gently down her body, eyes trailing, but never lingering, just appreciating the sight of Angie under you.

You moved to stand at the edge of the bed no longer straddling her, wanting to fully look at her, grinned and you were sure your face was flushed. But you were so fucking happy.

“What is it?” Angie propped herself up on her elbows, the crinkle between her eyebrows already present.

You shook your head slowly, “I didn’t think it was possible for you to look better out of your clothes than in them.” 

She laughed, leaned back against the bed. “Why don’t you take a picture, it'll last longer.”

Your expression lit up, “Where’s your camera?”

She sighed, realizing you were only half-joking, “Sweetheart, if you don’t fuck me, I’ll do it myself.”

You moved closer, kissed her; Angie led your hands to her breasts. You pulled away, sunk to your knees and she sighed. Spread her legs and you wanted to tease her about how wet she was, but she had put up with enough teasing. 

Slowly you trailed chaste kisses up her legs, occasionally leaving a hickey simply to hear her moan. And then you were near her cunt, she must have felt your breath against her because her legs spread a little more and her hand tangled in your hair. Tightening her hold on your hair momentarily before she lessened her grip. 

The first lick was experimental, an attempt to see if she liked it. Her grip tightened again, there was a hum above you. You pushed forward, tasting her, and thanking fate or whatever higher power above that you made it this far, you traced your tongue up the length of her cunt. 

She pulled one of your hands to rest against her breast, you palmed at her breasts, timed it with every broad firm lick. Soon she was moaning, her legs pulling you closer against her, her hand still holding your hair, but still with a gentle grip.

You redoubled your efforts with every unrestrained sound. But then she muttered something, and you realized as she let out a string of phrases that it was French. Admittedly it had been awhile since you had taken high school French, but you recalled some. She spoke, and you picked up a few words, a mention or two of God, some definite curse words. She was nearing the edge.

You increased your speed, focused on tracing tight circles around her clit. Her hand tightened painfully in your hair, pulled you forward as she grinded against your face. You put your mouth around her clit, sucked. She pulled your hair a little harder, you let out a small groan. The vibrations traveling to her. Her grip lessened.

She finally came undone with a moan of your name. And then it was all breathy praise, you made out _je t’aime_ followed by your name, followed more words that you didn’t understand. Though you weren’t sure the actual meaning, you weren’t lost on the way she said it. You worked her through the aftershocks of her orgasm. Pulling away to leave a chaste kiss against the inside of her thigh. 

Finally, you moved back to lay against her, she pulled you against her, kissed you breathlessly.

It continued a few more rounds, with sporadic cuddling between it. Until you were both laying there spent and nearly asleep. The phone rang, you sighed, stood despite Angie’s insistence to get back in bed. You answered it with a semi-annoyed, “Hello?”

Liz was on the other line, “Thank Angie for me, everything was cleaned, and a new front door was already installed when we arrived home.”

“I will.”

“Oh, and Y/N, I think we should have her over for dinner again sometime soon.” She said, “You know since everything happened and…” _We actually like her now._ You understood what your sister meant even without her voicing it.

“Sounds perfect.”

She didn’t bother with small talk, simply hung up and you returned to the bedroom. 

“Who was it?” Angie asked.

“Liz, she wanted to thank you for handling everything, and wanted to know if you wanted to come over for dinner soon.”

“Am I getting your family’s blessing?” She teased.

You smiled, your mind jumping back to the dream. Already thinking of how this would be a step closer to your dream becoming reality and it made your heart pound. Angie pulled you back into bed, you cuddled up to her, wondered what her ring size was. “Possibly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s the end, but there might be more stories in the future 👀👀
> 
> Also lemme know what your favorite part of the story was in the comments bc i’m curious but also i thrive off any comments in general so yea


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